Forgotten
by weezer42
Summary: Alternative Ending - post S2Ep7 - He didn't die, but he didn't come back exactly the same either. ultimately Stabby
1. Fate's Plaything

Title: Forgotten

Author: Squeezynz

Spoilers: S2Ep7

Setting: Post S2Ep7 AU

Pairing: None as yet. Ultimately Stabby (but you knew that, what else do I write?)

I refuse to believe that he died so horribly. Yes it was heroic, but also unnecessary. This is just my way of bringing him back. Not beta'd so any grammar or spelling mistakes are all my own work.

The rose tinted glasses are firmly stuck on, and will remain so for the foreseeable future.

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The distant beep of some machine, steady and insistent, was his first indication that maybe he wasn't dead after all. He couldn't feel his body, his limbs or anything. He struggled to open his eyes but that small task was simply beyond him. Instead he lay and listened to the machine beeping out his pulse, the thread of sound becoming an anchor to the world beyond the darkness inside his head. He slept, images playing over and over in his head, a man's face – blue eyes staring- framed by a round window, his own focus narrowed down to just this man's expression in a vain attempt to ignore the fantastical creatures looming all around him.

It wasn't exactly how he pictured he would die. He couldn't even explain how he knew he was supposed to have died.

Time drifted as he lay there, the steady beep of the machine his only companion in the darkness. One time when he awoke, he felt someone in the room with him, leaning over him, moving around him. He tried to speak, to open his eyes, but whoever it was was gone before he could summon the strength to do more than think about the action.

More time drifted by, until one day he awoke and the beeping had stopped. Panic set in for a second, as he thought he must have died again, but his pulse still hummed in his ears, testament that his heart was still intact and beating. Calming himself down he tried to move something – anything, but couldn't, his limbs still numb and unresponsive. There was something down his throat, choking him, suffocating him, he struggled and pain blossomed everywhere. An alarm went off and suddenly he was surrounded by people, their hands on his body, his arms, his legs, telling him to calm down, to not fight the tube down his throat, to stop struggling.

Like an animal he fought blindly, his arms lashing out, heavily bandaged, only to be restrained easily, the tube down his throat eased out and gone leaving him raw and hoarse. Still the unseen hands held him down, his flailing limbs having little strength to resist. Darkness swallowed him and his feeble attempts to communicate.

When he next regained consciousness, the machine was back, the comforting beep more welcome than he cared to admit to. There was nothing down his throat, but something still covering his eyes. He tested his hands, flexing his fingers and trying to raise his hand towards his face, but nothing much happened and he let them fall back to the covers. He wondered is he'd ever felt so weak and helpless in his life before. Someone entered his room and he turned his head a fraction towards where he thought they stood. He could hear them breathing, but nobody touched him so he supposed it wasn't a nurse this time. With a tongue that felt six times its normal size, he tried to moisten his lips before attempting to talk. Whoever was in the room suddenly came towards the bed and he sensed them leaning over him. Suddenly something cool was being held against his mouth, the ice feeling like heaven in his mouth and against his woolly tongue. His throat still felt raw and he swallowed apprehensively, but there was little pain as the ice chip slid its way down.

"Thank you..." He managed to whisper, a thread of sound that he could barely hear himself, let alone the person with him.

"You're a lucky man Mister Hart. A few more seconds and you wouldn't have survived the mauling."

Images of impossible creatures flashed into his head and his body jerked at the memory of sharp claws and teeth fastening onto his limbs even as he fought them off in a last ditch effort to survive.

As if only now remembering how to form the words, he managed just one. "How?"

"It would seem that someone tripped the emergency failsafe and flooded the holding pen with gas, knocking everything out and saving your life."

"W-who?"

"We don't know. Whoever they were, they got away before we reached the building. Found several bodies, members of Leek's security force I imagine, and Leek...what was left of him, which wasn't much."

He couldn't place the voice of the man talking to him, but despite that he seemed familiar. Images flashed into his head of a man in a pinstriped suit and pink shirt looking supercilious, but he couldn't put a name to the face. The simple effort of trying to place a name to the face made his head reel, the darkness drawing him down again. The other names mentioned meant as little to him as well, the flash of faces scrolling across his minds eye no help.

Time had no meaning, years could have passed and he wouldn't have been any the wiser. Each time he awoke it was for a little longer, his eyes still covered, but now there was usually someone attending to him, gentle hands wrapping and unwrapping his arms and legs, bathing him and changing the bed linen, all without his participation or co-operation.

Then one time he awoke to hear more than one voice in the room. The machine that beeped had been removed some time ago, so he lay there and listened.

"So what's the likelihood of a full recovery?" It was the same man who had spoken to him before.

"There's extensive damage to muscle and tissue, and blood loss was extreme."

"Yes, yes I know...he nearly died. Is he going to recover?"

"Not nearly died...he did die...twice."

"But not today. Come come Doctor. I've seen you handiwork, you're a genius."

"Maybe. But this man was almost torn apart. I can only do so much."

"So he won't be as pretty as before, I'm sure a few scars will only improve his attractions. I'm wanting an idea of when he'll be up and about again."

"Given the damage to his liver, spleen and kidneys, plus the damage to his ligaments..."

"Yes, yes you can give me a shopping list later. Will he live?"

"You are fortunate he was a young, fit and healthy man. He'll live and should make a relatively full recovery."

"See...that wasn't so hard. Now do ask for whatever you need to move things along, won't you?"

"Of course."

"Good. I'll come back and see our patient again soon."

Time went on and life started to expand. Whatever had been done to him was healing well. The dressing on his arms and legs were removed, and some tentative exploration revealed long gashes feathery with stitches everywhere. It was as if someone had taken to him with a razor, cutting him deeply all over. Several more gashes were evident on his body, across his chest and stomach, down his ribs and across the base of his throat. The tightness of healing wounds pulled against the skin of his back and down both legs. He tried to imagine what he must look like but gave up when he realized that very little of him was unscathed. He's be a patchwork of scars when they finally healed, like a monster put together from many parts. If his body was so marked, he figured his face must be a picture as well.

Of his face, he could only feel his mouth and bristly jawline. Everything else was swathed still in dressings and bandages. He tried to remember what he looked like but it remained a worrying blank. He thought that maybe one of the faces he kept seeing in his minds eye could have been himself, but none seemed to fit.

Time moved ever onwards and stitches were removed. He was now doing simple exercises with a physiotherapist who had obviously been instructed well. The man was a consummate professional, moving and manipulating arms and legs, pushing and pulling, massaging and always without a word or question outside the limits of the therapy. Any questions asked were gently ignored or deflected with the focus always on his recovery and regaining his lost conditioning.

He felt like a prize thoroughbred being readied for a big race.

With the increase of movement, they removed the shunts in his arm and leg, feeding him no longer through a tube but with a spoon, the amounts increasing as the days sped by. A liquid diet turned into a solid diet and he started to take short walks from the bed to a commode and back again. His personal nurse remained frustratingly unhelpful with any form of information outside his welfare and general health until he gave up asking and just accepted that he'd learn nothing.

Then came the day they took off the last remaining bandages about his face and eyes. The lights had been turned down or shielded before the last piece of cloth was removed, revealing his recovery room. At first the shapes and people around him appeared blurry and indistinct, then a man stepped forward and tilted his head up to put drops in his eyes. The blurriness receded and everything swam into focus.

Three men regarded him with somber expressions. One stood with his arms folded, his expression oddly intent, wearing a sharply creased dove grey suit. The other two were, he supposed, his doctor and his male nurse. He looked down at his own body, the sheet bunched around his waist, and gasped at the first sight of all the scars criss crossing his skin.

"Not exactly very pretty, I agree...but you're alive, thanks to the Doctor and team of surgeons that patched you back up again." The man in the dove grey suit came forward, leaning down and resting one hand on the side of the bed to peer more closely into the face of the newly revealed patient. "You have my admiration Samuels...remarkable."

"Who are you?"

Standing upright again, the man frowned down at the patient. "Who am I?" The man exchanged a look with the Doctor who immediately hurried forward to shine a light into the patients eyes. He batted the light away and peered at the man in the suit.

"Who are you?"

"James Lester...but you know that Stephen."

"You called me...Mister Hart?"

"Yes...Stephen Hart...that's your name. Doctor, you never mentioned anything about memory loss?"

"How was I to know?" The Doctor shrugged. "This is the first time we've spoken to the man, on your orders I might add."

The man in the suit, Lester, frowned even more ferociously at the Doctor before turning back to face the patient. "What's the last thing you remember?"

"A man...a man with blue eyes starring back at me behind a round glass window."

"And you don't remember your name, or who you are?"

"You said I was called Stephen...Hart."

"Yes...you were...are called that." Lester turned away from him and addressed the Doctor again. "Get someone in here to deal with this. The best there is. I want a report as soon as possible."

"Of course Sir James. Cameron will be your man, he's the best in his field."

"Get him here...yesterday!" With a final look at the patient, Lester swung out of the room and out of sight, leaving behind the nurse and the Doctor who exchanged a look before the Doctor followed.

The male nurse busied himself about the room, his every move followed with bright interest by a pair of intense blue eyes thickly rimmed with black lashes.

"What happened to me?"

The nurse paused in folding a towel, then slowly turned to face the man in the bed. "I don't know, I'm just employed to take care of you."

"Did I fall into a machine or something?" Stephen indicated his body with it's multiple lacerations and incision lines.

"I don't know."

"Was I in a car accident...or air crash?" dark brows pulled together over confused eyes as he wracked his brains to come up with what could have happened to him.

"Look man, I really don't know. I was just contracted to come here and take care of you after the operations. You'll have to ask the Doctor, or Lester if you want to know more." The nurse went back to his towel folding, avoiding meeting the blue eyes still looking for answers.

Stephen stared down at himself, not recognizing his own body or limbs, his hands looking large, the fingers long but wasted from the long time spent in recovery. His arms felt weak, the muscles lax and the skin loose.

"How long have I been here?"

The nurse turned to face the young, scarred man in the bed. "Eight weeks man. I've been tending to you for about eight weeks. Here, there's a button if you need anything. I'll just be down the corridor." And he was gone, the door swinging back and forth behind him in his haste to leave the room.

"My name is Stephen Hart." He proclaimed out loud, the name not making any particular impact, or jogging any new memories. He would have to wait for the man in the suit, Lester, to return to get more answers to the questions starting to swarm in his head.

He lifted his hands to careful map the planes of his face, feeling the ridges of scar tissues and healing gashes, the skin itchy and flaking as he lightly scratched. A hank of hair slid over his forehead and he swept it back, the hair catching on another slashing scar near his hairline. He must really look a picture. He didn't even know what his face looked like before, let alone now. He grabbed for the button to summon back the nurse.

"What is it man?"

"A mirror...have you got a mirror?"

The nurse hesitated, then walked over to the beside cabinet and opened the top drawer. Pulling out a square of plastic, he slowly handed it to the man in the bed. "He did a great job on your face...really he did."

Stephen drew in a deep breath and then held the mirror up. The face that looked back at him was unrecognizable A pair of hauntingly blue eyes starred back at him, framed by dark lashes, and even darker brows, one of the brows bisected by a short, puckered scar. He raised his hand to trace each of the lines now marking his face, one running from just below his bottom lip across his chin only to be intersected by another slicing up his cheek to beside his eye. Several smaller scratches and lines cross hatched over the larger, deeper lines, as if his face had been grated, some of the lines extending down his neck and onto his collar bone.

"What the hell happened to me?" He asked in a whisper, laying the mirror down on the covers, his eyes starring off into nothing.

"You're alive. That's what happened to you. You just need to get your strength back now and you'll be fine." The nurse slid the mirror back into the drawer and turned to go.

"But I don't remember anything. Not even who Stephen Hart is?"

"Early days man. Just give it time...it'll all come back, you see."

"If remembering tells me how this happened, do I want to remember it?"

The man looked at Stephen with compassionate eyes. "You're alive, that's all that matters."

Then he left, leaving his patient to ponder what could possibly have left him looking like he's fallen into a paper shredder. And how the hell had he managed to survive.

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Another week passed and he was starting to feel restless. All the dressings were off, and stitches removed. He had healed well and his Doctor was full of praise for his progress. The physio had reported excellent progress in regaining his fitness, his body filling out and muscles becoming strong again. Even the patch of hair shaved off his head all those weeks ago for some unnamed operation was starting to catch up with the rest of his hair, all of it starting to get long about his ears. He preferred to keep the whiskers as well, the hair hiding some of the scarring, the longer fringe performing the same task. When the nurse offered to trim it for him, he let him, but only enough to even it up, not to seriously shorten it, leaving it covering a fair proportion of his face.

He didn't know it, but he was looking as unlike his former self as it was possible, almost enough so that anyone from his old life happening to meet him, would be hard pressed to recognize him.

Only his eyes remained the same, but now there was a hint of perpetual confusion in them, a bewilderment that begged many questions that simply had no answers.

The day finally came when he was pronounced as fit as he was going to get and Lester came once more to visit, announcing that he would be taking him out of the hospital wing and returning him to his old life. The many visits from Cameron had done nothing to restore Stephen's memory, with the man's report to Lester flung across the room to land near the bin. It seemed that, for the time being, Stephen Hart may be alive and well again, but he was nowhere near the man he used to be. He was missing his memories and posed a problem of what to do with him.

Because of the precarious odds against him surviving at the start, it was deemed necessary for the smooth running of the ARC and the personnel concerned to let them think their friend and colleague dead and buried. Against all odd, Stephen had managed to survive and now Lester had a decision to make.

In his present state, with no memory of his life before, it would be a simple matter of setting the young man up with a job and flat somewhere and let him build a new life for himself. Lester could manufacture anything at all to satisfy his curiosity, and there was no-one to gainsay him. The downside was, as Cameron pointed out, that one day all those repressed memories were likely to come flooding back. When they did, they'd be hell to pay and Lester would have to have very deep pockets.

They were still hunting Helen Cutter, and still working on getting control over the anomalies and predicting when they would appear, but the team were off balance, edgy and Lester knew that he'd have to decide whether to disband them or bring in someone to pull them together.

He had hoped that Stephen restored to them would effect that miracle, return them to being a cohesive group again, but with the young man's loss of memory, that was no longer a workable plan.

He would have to find someone to replace the supposedly dead team member, and also find a home for the newly resurrected one.

It was all very irritating.

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Stephen fingered the shiny key held between his fingers, rubbing his thumb over the surface as he stood in the doorway and surveyed his new accommodation

Lester had explained that his original flat had been sold off, and his belongings put into storage. So this was a new place, his stuff out of storage but still in boxes now scattered throughout the rooms he apparently now owned.

Apprehensively, he shut the door behind him and advanced into the sunny space that was his new lounge room. A kitchen led off to the left through a doorway, and a corridor beckoned from across the room, apparently leading to his bedroom, bathroom and a spare room.

He had a new car, a shiny navy blue Lexus which he was assured was similar to the one he'd had in his previous life, and he had an interview lined up for him to go to on the following Monday. Sir James Lester had been positively frightening in his efficiency, no aspect of Stephen's return to the world overlooked.

He had money, he had transport and he had accommodation.

What he didn't have was anyway of knowing who he was or how he was supposed to fit into a world he couldn't remember.

He dropped the key onto the kitchen bench before wandering further into the lounge and sitting down on the comfortably, if utilitarian sofa.

A sharp pain suddenly lanced through his head and he hissed, clutching his hand to his scalp, his eyes squeezed tight against the agony.

"Sorry mate, I'm doing this one..."

"No. Open the door...open it!"

"Can't do it Nick...can't take the risk...can't take the risk...can't take the risk..."

Next he knew, he was laying on his back staring, blinking up at his ceiling, his head no longer feeling as if it was about to split open. He replayed the words over in his head, but couldn't place them in either time or context. Did it have something to do with the one face that kept coming back to him? Did the man with the intense blue eyes have something to do with this? What was the risk, and why didn't he open the door?

Easing himself upright he gingerly moved his head up and down and side to side, but the pain didn't return. Hooking his boot around one of the brown boxes littering the living room, he tore it open and peered inside. Lester had told him that in his former life he'd had a passion for paleontology, and this was borne out by the contents, his fingers closing around a stone fossil, an Ammonite that fitted neatly into the palm of his hand. He laid it on the floor and delved in to find more treasures. Each one proved more fascinating than the last, the sun traveling across the floor almost to the wall before he reached the bottom, the floor around him strewn with fossilized remains, some he thought he recognized, others a complete mystery.

His stomach reminded him how long it had been since his last meal, so he pushed himself to his feet, his bum numb from sitting on the floor.

Pulling the fridge open he found it stocked with everything he could have wanted and more, his lips twisting up into a crooked smile at another example of Lester's efficiency.

Leaning against the counter he forked a bowl of chicken salad into his mouth while surveying the wreckage of his living room currently strewn with rocks, fossils and bones. When he was finished he dumped the bowl into the sink and contemplated his distorted reflection in the glass of the wall oven. His fringe covered the scars on his forehead, the beard and 'tache covered his lower face, leaving only his eyes unchanged by his experience. He wondered if he'd had a lover or girlfriend in his previous life, and if she'd still recognize him. He'd asked Lester, but he'd been vague, suggesting he leave the past in the past and forge ahead. Apparently his parents were long dead, with no living siblings or relatives, truly alone in the world. Lester had also said that the people he'd worked with hadn't survived whatever had scarred him for life, so there was no help from that quarter. All he had was what littered his living room and what he built for himself from now on.

Maybe Lester had it right, he should let the past remain past and stop worrying about where he'd been or who he knew before. If Lester was right, then anyone he knew before was dead and gone, his loss of memory effectively giving him a clean slate, his scars changing his appearance from before so that even if any of the people he used to know met him, they'd probably not recognize him, or he them.

He had the chance to do something other people only dreamt of, a fresh start, a new beginning, all past mistakes wiped away. Did he dare take the opportunity and let the past rest in peace?

Glancing over his shoulder he stared back at the mess on the floor and smiled again.

He'd give the present a chance. The past had obviously been less than stellar for him, resulting in his near death. Maybe this was a second chance, and chance to rebuild a life.

He didn't know what he would have done, what decision he would have made in his former life, as the man he'd been before, but as the man he was now - it was a new start, one he was going to embrace.

Padding barefoot across the floor, he pulled his shirt off over his head and started to unbutton his jeans. By the time he reached the gleaming bathroom he'd shed his clothes and walked naked into the shower. The mirrors steamed up quickly as he sluiced water over his body, his fingers tracing the myriad scars covering his skin. He was a new man in a new skin with a new face and life.

He had no past, he only had now.

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James lester faced the man across the table and sighed gustily.

"I'm aware you are the best at what you do. His belongings are clean?"

"There's nothing in anything to remind him of his former life or the people in it. Everything has been sanitized."

"Well, if he accepts the version of his life I've supplied him with, everything should fit neatly and satisfy his immediate curiosity. Certainly it is unlikely that he will run into any of the current team, stuck away as he is, and his new job will not bring him into any sort of contact with the ARC or anomalies."

"Then you have nothing to worry about. I assure you, Sir James, this man doesn't remember a thing about his former life. Whatever trauma he suffered, it has wiped his memories for good." Cameron leant back in the uncomfortable chair and smiled smugly. "If you thought you did, you wouldn't have bothered to go to these lengths. It would have been easier to just kill him...again."

"Your sense of humor always tended towards the black." Lester swung his swivel chair around, his back now to Cameron. "Thank you, you may go now."

Still smiling, Cameron rose to his feet and walked out of the room. Lester continued to stare out of his office window long after the door had swung shut. He hoped that Stephen Hart did accept his new life for the gift it was, and didn't start to want more. Cameron seemed confident the man would never remember his past, but Lester had seen many strange and sometimes miraculous things in his line of business, and never took anything for granted. He certainly never left anything to chance, having the flat, phone and car bugged to keep track of Mister Hart at home and beyond. Even his work was to be monitored, just in case. If Stephen Hart started to remember too much, Lester would know about it. The original plan to use what the man knew to capture Helen Cutter was now defunct. He was nothing now but collateral damage.

Swinging back around, Lester pulled his chair up to his desk and flipped open his laptop. The Stephen Hart issue had been addressed and put to bed.

Lester had more urgent matters to attend to.

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to be continued...


	2. Living on Hold

1/3/08

Title: Forgotten

Chapter Two: Living on Hold.

Author: Squeezynz

Setting: Post S2Ep7

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Abby tucked the annoying strand of darkened hair behind her ear for the umpteenth time that day. She hated growing out a hairstyle and had sworn the last time she wouldn't bother again, but here she was, new color, new look and growing out the old one.

The day after Stephen's funeral had been the catalyst. They'd all rushed off, fired up on adrenaline and grief, to tackle the newest anomaly, only to find nothing more threatening than a miniature lake forming beside the portal and a great deal of dead and dying fish flopping about. After some minor flooding, the anomaly closed and they left the clean up to Lester's men. It was both a relief and a huge disappointment. Connor had been ready to take on a Tyrannosaurus at least, his emotions like everyone else's, torn between resentment at the non-existent time given to get over their friends demise, and the sheer thrill of not knowing what was to come through the anomalies next.

Secretly, Abby hoped that Helen Cutter would be one of those unknowns and she'd get shot, preferably fatally, as payback for Stephen. It was plain to anyone that read Nicks report, when he finally filed it, that Stephen had been played for a dupe by Helen, that he hadn't been betraying Nick but trying to get to the bottom of a supposed conspiracy that Stephen believed was being orchestrated by Lester. That Helen had deliberately fostered that premise was now clear, and with the strain already apparent between them all, and the lack of cohesive information, it was not a surprise that Stephen had been so ready to believe her lies. He'd only ever wanted to get to the bottom of the supposed conspiracy, but paid for the betrayal by Helen with his life.

In the end he had known the truth, his reconciliation with Nick all too tragically cut short by his heroic gesture. Helen had disappeared, as she always did, and Nick was left to mourn the passing of his closest friend for the past ten years.

Abby would have liked a chance for a reconciliation herself. Connor had tried his best, but his own feelings for Stephen were too confused for him to offer Abby much comfort.

Life had eventually returned to some semblance of normal, with all the players retreating to their own corners to mourn and deal with the very real prospect that Stephen's fate could be any one of theirs.

Nick continued to focus on the problem of predicting the anomalies, Connor worked with him as well as on his own project to somehow find a way to close or control the time portals, while Abby found herself relegated to finding out as much as possible about the creatures that came through.

It was only after he was gone that they all realized just how much they'd relied on Stephen to be the anchor of the group. He had been their strength, their rock and without him they were no more than parts missing a vital link to hold it all together. Abby often caught Nick speaking as if to Stephen at his side, the older man catching himself after a few seconds, his mouth thinning into a line as he struggled to hold in his emotions. They were all a little like that, all looking for the tall, lanky right hand man, and missing his solid presence and input.

Connor had become introspective and quiet, his usual exuberance dulled with the loss of Stephen. They had always had a somewhat brotherly relationship, and Connor missed that more than he let on. Abby had tried to talk to him about it, but Connor had closed her out, preferring Cutter's company to hers, more often than not.

It was putting a severe strain on their relationship and Abby was starting to wonder if she'd dreamed the possibility that she and Connor could be anything more than good mates.

Instead of bringing them closer together, Stephen's death had driven a wedge between them all, that just got wider and wider as the days slipped into weeks, then months.

After the first month of long silences and avoiding glances, Abby decided she needed a change. Caroline had been noticeable by her absence since the funeral, the girl keeping a low profile after being debriefed and cleared of the conspiracy surrounding Oliver Leek and Helen Cutter. Abby had only seen her once, coming out of Lester's office, looking as if she'd just taken a monumental beating, her shoulder slumped and her usual self confidence severely trampled.

The two girls had made eye contact, Caroline's sending a silent apology, Abby acknowledging her remorse and sending compassion her way. Since that day they'd text each other once or twice, Abby not sure whether Connor was also still in contact, the subject never raised between them.

So when Abby felt she needed to give herself a make over, Caroline was the one she called. Together they talked over color and style, Abby settling for a subdued color to replace her eye catching bleach blond, feeling the need to reflect the changes she was feeling inside.

She might well have never bothered, for all the notice she got from Cutter and Connor. Neither even commented until another month had passed and she was needing to tie back the length to keep it out of her face. Connor watched her twist the short ponytail before securing it with a tie, his face scrunching into a frown.

"Did you do something to your hair?"

Abby paused and looked up at him, her darker eyebrows raised almost to her hairline.

"Ya think?"

Connor seemed taken aback by her pithy reply, his expression one of bewilderment. "Why'd you do that?"

Finishing with her hair, Abby tossed her head and put her hands on her hips. "Why not?"

Obviously not interested enough to get into an argument over the point, Connor merely shrugged.

Abby rolled her eyes and walked off, Connor forgetting the incident almost immediately.

Before Stephen had died, their relationship had been on-again-off-again, circling each other like wary cats. Only once had Connor come close to actually voicing his feelings, only to take them back a hour later, leaving her more confused than ever. Since that abortive attempt at putting their whatever-it-was on a more formal setting, nothing had been done. They still talked, but the lighthearted banter was gone. They still lived together, but more as mates sharing the same building rather than lovers sharing the same space. She even felt that sometimes Connor avoided coming home altogether so he wouldn't have to face her, arriving home long after she had eaten and gone to bed. She'd tackled Caroline about this early on, but the girl swore that Connor hadn't been seeing her, was barely even talking to her.

It had reached the point where she felt the need to get out of the flat almost as soon as she got home, to go anywhere but be there.

It came as little surprise when she arrived home early one day to the feeling that something had changed. Rex flew across the room to greet her, landing on her shoulder and accepting her petting as his right, but Abby largely ignored him, standing still in the middle of the room to absorb what was wrong.

She noticed his computer was gone first. Slowly turning, the bright green lizard still on her shoulder, Abby started to notice other things were missing. Half the cd's were gone, along with a fair proportion of the dvd's. Several pictures were missing from around the desk by the window, along with the odd ornament here and there. To confirm her suspicions, she walked over to the door leading to his bedroom and knocked once before opening it. Usually it was organized chaos with clothes and books scattered everywhere. Now it was a mattress stripped of its linen and a room devoid of anything belonging to Connor. Rex chirruped and launched himself into the room, flying once around before landing on the naked bed.

It would appear that Connor had moved out.

Calling Rex, Abby left the door open and wandered back into the living room. They had been living together for so long, she hadn't realized how much of Connor had been a part of the furnishings. The giant green cactus that had been Tom's was missing, and all his toiletries were gone from the bathroom. She had to give him marks for being thorough, even the kitchen had been given the once over with all his favorites removed from the fridge and pantry.

The only thing missing was a note of explanation. In truth, she hardly needed one, but it would have been nice of him to leave her something. He'd been acting odd all week, and now she knew why.

She'd had her share of being dumped, but this wasn't some month long affair that ended badly, this was Connor, her supposed best friend and work mate.

Feeling a little teary, she fixed herself a glass of wine and went and sat on the window seat near to his former desk. Rex seemed to sense her mood and left her alone, occasionally chirruping to himself, the sound a comfort in itself.

The front door banged below and the tramp of feet on the stairs made her freeze. It was Connor, taking the stairs two at a time to arrive sweaty and disheveled on the top step, an envelope in his hands. He looked about for a place to put it, not noticing Abby in the window. As he turned to go, Abby swung her legs down and called out to him.

"Was it too much to hope you'd tell me in person?"

She saw the flush of embarrassment creep up his face, but wasn't prepared to let him skulk out without explaining.

"I didn't think you'd be here. You're usually out on a Thursday night."

"So are you. What excuse did you give Cutter to get off early?"

Connor looked sheepish. "Dentist."

"You can thank Lester for me being here, or maybe I should thank him. I have to go up to the Lake District tomorrow, so I got off early to pack."

"Lake District? What's up there?" Connor shuffled his feet, one hand on the balustrade as if wishing he could make a quick escape.

"Lakes, I imagine."

"Look...Abby...I know this seems a bit rushed, and I would have told you sooner...it's just...well..."

Abby regarded his averted face, his eyes unable to meet hers, and sighed. "I'm sorry too Connor."

He looked up at that and finally ceased to fidget, meeting her steady gaze with one that was shadowed with regret.

"I never wanted to hurt you Abby, honestly. It's just...since...well, since...nothings been right, you know?"

"I know. I've felt the same. Everyone has."

"Right." Connor dropped his gaze to his shoes, his hand drumming a tattoo on the metal stair rail. "Look, I'm not going far, so we can still meet...for coffee or something. I just need to..." He stopped and drew in a breath. "We'll see each other at work, that hasn't changed." He tried to sound cheery, but it didn't reach his eyes and his expression quickly fell. "I couldn't bear it if anything happened to you as well, Abby. I just couldn't."

"So moving out is your answer to that?"

"Kinda. I once said to him that I didn't realize until he was injured just how serious this all was. Now he's dead, and it could be anyone of us next."

"We all understand that Connor..." Abby started to say, only to have him interrupt her.

"No, you don't understand." Connor fought for control, but it was all too much. "You don't understand anything."

"Then tell me...what am I missing? What is going on with you?" She moved a step closer, but Connor threw up his hands to ward her off.

"You just don't get it...I was glad when I heard Stephen was dead. Can you believe it? I was glad...it meant he was no longer the hero, the one to rescue everyone, the one everyone looked up too, he was dead...dead and gone."

"Connor!" Abby couldn't help her gasp of shocked surprise.

"You still don't understand – I wished him dead, for all the most petty reasons in the world, and now I can't unwish him back again. I can't be him, or replace him and I hate that. I hate feeling guilty all the time, of feeling that somehow I've failed him and everyone else..."

"But Connor..."Abby tried to remonstrate, but he cut her off again.

"Every time I see you, I remember how you were in those early days, how you wanted nothing more than for him to notice you...everyone's ideal of the perfect hero...and I hated him, hated that he knew more, had experienced more, was so damn noble about everything...it made me sick." Tears were starting to trickle down his face under the strain of the emotions raging out of control. "I so wanted to be him, to have you look at me the way you looked at him...and I hated him."

"You didn't hate him Connor..."

Drawing in a deep breath, Connor relaxed his fists and spread out his fingers to relieve some of the tension radiating off him in waves. "No...I didn't hate him...not at the end...too late I realized it wasn't close to hate at all. Now it's too late to tell him and I have to live with that. He was the closest I ever came to having a brother...and I never told him."

Abby remained silent, feeling his anguish, but helpless to do more for him. Connor swiped at the wetness on his face and turned to go.

"I'm sorry Abby, really really sorry, but I just can't live here anymore. I hope you won't hate me for doing this, but I need to find my own space for a bit."

"I don't hate you Connor, and I do understand...I do."

"You're a good friend Abby, better than I deserve." He made to go down the stairs. Just before he vanished from sight he paused and looked up at her still standing near the top step. "I won't be in work for a couple of days while I get things sorted. I'll be back on Monday...okay?"

"Sure...have a good weekend Connor...see you Monday."

"Bye." And he was gone, the door banging softly behind him. Abby stood at the top of the stairs for a few moments more before turning to pick up the envelope he'd left behind. Inside was two sets of house keys, one for her flat and apparently one for his new digs and an address. Throwing it back on the bench she went back to the window seat and sat there, staring off into nothing, the sun finally setting and turning the opposite building pink. Only when it was too dark and the street lights came on did she stir herself.

Death affected people in different ways, the death of a close friend and loved one the hardest to bear. Cutter buried himself in his work, his feelings hidden from the casual observer, his life apparently unchanged by the loss. The truth was different, as Abby had found out when she opened one of Cutter's desk drawers and found herself looking into the eyes of a dead man, the photo staring up at her, the only object in the drawer. She had seen Cutter open the drawer on many occasion, and now knew why. She'd heard Cutter talking to himself, and now realized he was talking to Stephen. More than once Cutter had arrived at work in a less than tidy condition, the smell of alcohol lingering before he ducked into the showers to appear as normal an hour later.

Connor had opted to run away and bury himself away from the others. At work the young student was apparently as he ever was, still brilliant, still clever, but more quiet, more serious, all of it hiding a seething guilt that wasn't deserved and a wounded heart wanting another chance.

Abby chose yet another route, deciding that she needed to make changes to her appearance to match the changes wrought by Stephen's death.

They all coped with what had happened in their own way, all hoping that the flesh wound that was his death would heal with time.

Again the hair flopped forward, and again she tucked it behind her ear. She was sitting in a huge library, a stack of books scattered about the table, some of them open to relevant pages, while others waited for her to delve inside. A lined notepad covered in her tidy scrawl sat untended by her elbow, her gaze currently focused somewhere in the middle distance.

She'd requested the task of researching, using the resources of a little known private library. She figured it would give her time away from the ARC to properly assess whether her involvement in the project continued, or she returned to her first love involving the rescue breeding program for rare and endangered species. She certainly had the financial security now to enable her to do pretty much what she wanted, in almost any field she cared to apply for.

Instead she had chosen to take a sabbatical of sorts, up in the Lake district pursuing a lead into historical references to anomalies in the past.

The ARC had been receiving anonymous articles about references in obscure books to possible sightings through mans history of light doors that could have been anomalies. Lester had been interested in the idea enough to recommend they send one of the junior techs on the mission, but Abby had jumped at the chance and volunteered herself. She felt restless and wanted to spend some time away from the still grieving Cutter and brooding Connor. Stephen's death had been such a profound shock to everyone, that Abby felt they were all walking about on eggshells all the time and it was starting to get on her nerves. No one would talk about it, or even mention his name, all evidence of his association with the ARC erased from the collective memory. It only made the whole situation between the three of them worse.

So now she was several hundred miles away from the whole business, and finding the research quite absorbing. From the articles already sent, it was clear that there had been several anomalies sighted at different times in the Earths more recent history. How much of that was random, or deliberate incursions by Helen Cutter was the reason she was there.

She could, as Connor suggested, have done some of the research on the computer, but that would have defeated the purpose. She needed to get away, and the Lake District offered the perfect opportunity.

The dull, echoing thud of a book hitting the floor snapped her out of her daydream, jerking her back to the room and the pile of books teetering precariously on her own table. The book dropper, several tables away, was juggling several more books, another one dropping to the table top with a bang followed closely by an audible and long curse. Abby had to smile before ducking her head and returning her concentration to the page open before her.

Whoever the bearded scholar was, he had a colorful language to curse with.

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Stephen cursed the weakness still evident in his right hand, the spasm causing him to drop the book with a wince inducing noise that made heads turn in his direction. Even as he bent to pick up the offending tome, another book slipped from his grasp and hit the table with an echoing thump. Thoroughly frustrated, he muttered a string of curses, most of which were as unintelligible to him as they must have been to the girl sitting, half hidden behind a stack of encyclopedia, three tables away.

Embarrassed, he gather up his satchel and remaining books and swung away, his head down and eyes averted from catching anyones disapproving glance.

"Are you taking all of these?" The woman at the counter peered at him over her glasses. "You do know we have a daily limit?"

"Yeah...sorry. Um...I need this one, this one and...er...this one."

He handed over the most urgent and consigned the rest to the librarian to return to the shelves. With the books signed out, he headed for the door, breathing deeply to settle his racing pulse as soon as he stepped outside.

Staying inside a building, other than a house, was still proving a trial for him. It had proved an unlooked for stumbling block the first day he went for his job interview, never making it past the glass walled foyer before spinning on his heels back to the pavement outside. He's tried three more times until the security guard intervened to find out what the hell he was doing. After a short explanation, the guard led him over to a bench and sat him down, then turned away to speak into a cell phone.

Within seconds his own was ringing. It was Lester. While he explained what had happened, the guard retreated back into the glass fortress, its sheer size making his head spin when he craned his neck to look up at the top, some fifty floors above him. Lester had been surprisingly understanding, suggesting that Stephen give the interview a miss and to go home.

Too disgusted at his own weakness, Stephen did as Lester suggested, spending the rest of the day unpacking more of the boxes scattered about his apartment. Lester called again later in the day and made a suggestion that had Stephen's interest piqued

"Why not take yourself off for a trip around the UK?"

"I can do that?"

"You certainly have the funds to do so, and there's nothing in regards the job that won't wait until you're a hundred percent ready to tackle it."

"But I don't know when that'll be?"

"Take whatever time you need. It'll all be here when you get back."

So he had. He'd taken Lester's advice and gone on a unguided tour of the British Isles. He didn't know what places he'd visited before, so everywhere was new to him. He worked his way out of London and up past Oxford, on to Birmingham, zig-zagging his way across the country heading ever Northwards until he reached Manchester. From there he drove East to York, before heading back West and ending up in the Lake District. Something about the wildness of the hills and valleys appealed to him and he decided to explore the area more fully than he'd done in the other places.

Finding a small bed and breakfast with the fairytale name of Fair Rigg, he found his interest in paleontology renewed by some of the local fossil finds on display in the cabinet by the front door. Some direct inquiries sent him to a couple of local sites and before he knew it, his passing interest had become a consuming passion.

Whenever he picked up a fossil or bone fragment, an aura of calm flowed over him and he felt at peace. He couldn't rationalize it, or even quantify the experience, he just knew that if he felt an attack of nerves or fear start to creep up on him, he just had to reach up for the pendant around his neck and it had the power to banish the fear as if it had never been. He'd found the talisman that first day, just after he'd blacked out for those few moments, the small fossil on a string getting tangled in his fingers when he tried to sit up. Folding the warm stone into his hand, he held it there and felt a sort of peace steal over him. From that day onward he wore the pendant around his neck and never took it off.

Even at night, when strange dreams caused him to cry out and struggle, his hand crept up to the smooth pebble about his neck and he instantly settled. He'd since identified the creature indelibly stamped into the stone as a coral, the stone as flint. The rich caramel color and shape, that seemed to drawer his fingers to smooth over the creature preserved in stone, sat with a welcoming weight against the base of his neck.

He stood for a moment outside the library and lifted his hand to touch it briefly, before ducking his head and walking down the street towards the nearest pub.

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Abby pinched the bridge of her nose and decided to call it a day. Despite the tantalizing clues in the articles sent to Sir James, there was little she'd achieved over the past few hours. Her stomach reminded her how long it had been since breakfast, so she decided to take a couple of the books and leave the rest for tomorrow.

The librarian gave her a tight smile when she deposited her heap on the desk, the smile turning genuine when it became clear the young woman wasn't expecting to take them all.

"Just these," Abby indicated the two that were proving more interesting than the others. As she was walking out of the library into the bright sun, her phone rang. Scrabbling for her bag, she almost dropped the lot, but managed to get the phone to her ear and find a convenient bench to deposit the rest on.

"Hello?"

"Abby...James Lester...how is it going in Cumbria?"

"Oh...well, I've only been here a day, but I think I may be on to something."

"Good. Which article are you following up on?"

"Um...the one from the sixteenth century...Helena Ducuttier."

"Yes...pretty obvious when you consider the name...well, enjoy the holiday."

"I will...and..."

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

There was a long silence on the end of the line. "We're all dealing with it in different ways Miss Maitland. Let me know if you find anything interesting."

Abby shut the phone and tucked it back in her bag. Her stomach growled again and she peered down the street looking for a likely eating place. Seeing what looked like a pub not far down the road she started walking, the sun warm on her dark head.

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to be continued...


	3. Happenstance

2/3/08

Title: Forgotten

Chapter: 3 – Happenstance

Author: Squeezynz

Setting: Post S2Ep7 – about six months on.

Pairing: Stabby

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The Watermill pub was surprisingly busy for a late afternoon on a Wednesday. Abby sidled her way through the crush to the bar and ordered a plate of wedges and a pint of the local best ale. Careful not to spill her drink, she squeezed past a group of animated farming types and scanned the room for a table.

Every booth and table seemed to have two or more people, so she edged closer to the huge fireplace to look around the corner. It was slightly less crowded there, so she pushed on, eventually ending up near the far corner. The most distant held only on patron, leaving the entire other side free.

Looking back she could see several other groups of people looking, like her, for seating and decided to take a chance.

"Excuse me...do you mind if I sit opposite you?"

The man in the booth only inclined his head fractionally before extending an arm to indicate for her to sit. Thankful to be able to place her endangered drink on a flat surface, Abby slid into the booth and sat down with a welcome sigh.

"Hell of a crush in here. Is this the happy hour?"

The man opposite her didn't reply, but lifted his shoulders in a shrug. Giving him an arch look, Abby ignored his boorish behavior and gratefully sipped her brimming drink. Back here the music from the bar was greatly subdued, almost drowned out by the roar of the patrons punctuated with bursts of laughter. She almost wished she'd opted for the garden bar at the back, but the clouds massing over the Longdale Pike had predicted rain, so she peeled off her scarf and gloves and settled in to enjoy the ambiance

Her companion opposite remained surprisingly quiet, his attention firmly focused on the book in his hand, his head lowered so that all she really got was an impression of someone in dire need of a good haircut and shave. Her plate of wedges arrived and she dived into them with a will, her appetite whetted by the smell of the strong local cheese melted over the golden potatoes. She munched happily, sipping occasionally and watched the people enjoying their drinks and friends.

Her companion could have been carved from a block of wood for all the movement he made, only occasionally reaching out a surprisingly elegant but capable hand to pick up his own drink and take a swig. Trying not to be obvious about it, she glanced at the title of the book holding his attention.

Extinctions in the History of Life was tooled into the spine and glimpsed on the cover, an unusual enough topic, but more surprising given her unique insight into that particular field. Thoroughly intrigued, she looked more closely at her companion, taking in the expensive and obviously new duffel coat folded on the seat beside him, the commodious leather satchel by his feet, the unscuffed leather boots, sensible black cargo pants, navy blue fisherman's jumper and amber colored pendant on a leather thong.

"If you're about to ask what star sign I am, don't bother."

His voice was low and slightly hoarse, as if he had a cold, his attitude unchanged, his absorption in the book still total. Abby ducked her head and smiled to herself.

"I wasn't...I was just interested to see the title of the book. A fossil hunter?"

"It's a hobby."

"I happen to know something about extinctions myself."

"Fossil hunter?"

"Lizard girl."

At last she had his attention. Like someone waking up, he lifted his head and gave her a quick glance, Abby getting the impression of intensely blue eyes behind thick lashes.

"Lizards?"

"I work...worked at Wellington Zoo for a couple of years in the Reptile breeding department."

"And now?"

"I work for a business that specializes in the study of extinct species." She'd reckoned that was a close to the truth as she'd ever likely to get.

His place in the book was carefully marked with a slip of paper before being placed to one side of the table. Abby ate another potato wedge and indicated for him to join her.

"Help yourself, there's more here than I can eat."

"Thanks." He took a wedge, then another, the atmosphere between them lifting over the shared food.

Abby downed the last of her beer and made to get up, but his hand snaked out across the table and held her in place, effortlessly.

"Let me. Least I can do for sharing your meal."

"Oh...alright...um...I can't tell you what it was, it's whatever the landlord has on tap."

"Probably his own, brewed on the premises. I'll be right back."

Gathering the two empty glasses in one hand, the stranger unwound his long body from the booth and strolled through the crowd to the bar. Abby admired the rear view of long legs on an athletic frame topped by broad shoulders. Certainly he was in urgent need of some personal grooming, but he wasn't dirty, only a little unkempt. She figured him for an eccentric.

The plate of wedges was seriously depleted by the time he returned with two full glasses, the crush of people in the pub meaning she'd already fended off two groups wanting to share her half empty booth.

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Stephen had passed the last group as he returned to the booth, the males in the party looking back at the lone female figure and passing several off color remarks. He felt a flush of anger which surprised him. He'd only met the girl an hour ago, only seen her once before at the library. It was hardly his place to feel protective or want to make the yob eat his own words, but the feeling was there, none the less.

Reaching their seat he placed the glasses on the ring marked wooden table top. The bowl of wedges was reduced nearly to crumbs, the girl wiping her mouth on a paper napkins before smiling her thanks for the round of drinks.

"Sorry it took so long, there was quite a queue." He remarked.

"Tell me about it, we almost lost our seats to that last group, they were most insistent."

"Yeah...look...if you like...I mean..." He stammered to a halt, a flush of embarrassment burning his neck. "Sorry...forget it." Folding himself back into the bench seat, he lifted his beer and took a long draught. "You were saying you worked at Wellington Zoo. That must have been interesting?"

Abby took her time answering, painting circles on the table top with her finger, in the beer spilt from her glass. "It my my first real job. I was supposed to be doing a degree in animal behavioral science, but the offer came up and I jacked in the degree to follow my dream. What do you do?"

"Ah...not a lot at the moment. Just getting over a nasty accident and taking some time off. Thought I'd visit Cumbria as I couldn't remember ever being here before."

"Couldn't remember?"

"Yeah, side effect of the accident apparently...get to start my life all over again." He buried his face in his glass, mortified that he'd spilled his guts with the first person who offered him an audience. Unable to look at her and see the pity he was sure would be there, he stared down at his hands.

"Can't remember anything?" Abby probed, not sure why she did.

"That's the definition of amnesia I believe. Apart from having an interest in old bones and fossils, and knowing a few basic skills like reading, writing and driving a car, I'm pretty much a blank canvas."

"God, you have no idea how lucky you are."

That pulled him up short. He lifted his head and stared in shock at the girl across from him. She was starring back at him with her huge blue eyes swimming with tears. Their eyes met and locked for a brief moment, before hers slid away and she was scrubbing at the welling tears with the paper napkin, smearing her makeup in the process. Stephen didn't know what to do, having no memory of how he was supposed to deal with a crying girl, certainly not one he'd only met an hour or so ago.

"I'm sorry..." He glanced over the back of the seat to the next table, noticing they had a napkin dispenser on their table. Getting out of the booth, he snagged the cool metal box, apologizing at the same time, then returned to his seat, pulling out a handful of the paper squares and pushing them across to the girl to use. "Here..."

He watched her discard one, then use another to blow her nose – noisily. Unsure what to do for the best, he sat and kept his gaze fixed on his glass, his finger absently rubbing over and over the smooth surface.

Eventually the girl seemed to get herself under control, wadding up the used napkins and stuffing them into her bag.

"I'm sorry for that...don't know what came over me."

"I'm sorry I upset you..."

"Oh you didn't...not really. I've just been under a bit of strain recently...lost someone close to me, and I don't think I've really dealt with it very well."

He almost said sorry again, but caught himself. Did he really want to get involved with someone coping with grief? She looked so tiny and fragile, he thought she might break if someone held her too tightly. The dark hair looked recently colored and in need of a trim, a direct contrast with her milky pale skin and corn flower blue eyes. He veered away from looking at her mouth, preferring to inspect the poster decorating the wall of their booth advertising a music festival that had taken place three years ago.

"Abigail."

He turned back to face her. "Pardon?"

"My name...Abigail Maitland. If I'm going to blub in front of a stranger, the least I can do is let him know who's doing the blubbing." Her lips twisted upwards in a watery smile and she held her hand out for him to take.

"Abigail..." He repeated, reaching his own hand over the table, engulfing her fingers in his warm grip, "that's a pretty name." They separated and he instantly felt the loss of her skin on his.

"Rather in keeping with this place," she rolled her eyes, then leant forward to explain when he looked blankly back. "All this Beatrix Potter stuff...I'm sure one of her characters was called Abigail or something like that."

"Oh...yeah...guess so." He looked down at his drink, then back up at her. "My names Steve...Steve Ha..." But at the moment he revealed his last name, a group of rowdy pub patrons tumbled past them on the way to the back door, their raucous laughter drowning him out. One particularly drunk young man lurched onto their table and sent the two half full glasses and the remaining wedges flying.

"Dammit..." Stephen shoved the idiot back onto his feet and watched him stagger after his companions. "Are you alright?" He asked Abigail, noting her trying to use the last of the paper napkins to mop up the beer dripping onto her jeans.

"Just a bit damp. You?"

"Fine. Look...why don't we get out of this place? Unless you're staying here?"

"No. No I'm at the Craig, down by the lake."

"Then why don't you let me walk you back."

"Okay...damn, that idiot got beer on my books."

He helped her sponge the liquid off the covers, then they put on their respective outer clothes before climbing out of the booth to make their way back to the front door. It was only when they stood side by side that he realized she really was tiny, only barely coming up to his shoulder. Another surge of protectiveness swept over him and he did his best to make sure she wasn't jostled more than necessary as they battled through the crowd to the front entrance.

Standing in the doorway they surveyed the steady drizzle outside with some dismay.

"I just knew it was going to rain, and me without an umbrella." Abby said in some resignation, her coat not having a hood and her shoes hardly designed for skipping through puddles.

Stephen pulled the hood of his thick duffel coat over his head and hoisted his bag on his shoulder.

"Look...I know we've barely met...and I don't want you to think I'm some sort of deviant, but my place is only just up the road. I can offer you a towel and a hot coffee, if you'd care...?"

"Then what are we standing here for!" Abby cut him off, darting out into the rain, her hair instantly flattened and her shoes soaked.

Stephen grinned and set off after her, catching up quickly and taking her arm to steer her around the worst of the puddles and quicken their pace towards his B&B.

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Abby sat wrapped in a thick bathrobe and stared at the fire crackling in the grate. It was fully dark outside, the lights of the town dulled by the constant rain still falling.

The clock on the mantle struck ten and she yawned. Her bed was already turned down and ready for her, and she knew she'd sleep well this night. Maybe she'd even sleep right through for a change.

Thinking of her day inevitably brought her back to Steve.

They'd arrived at his B&B to be greeted by the landlady holding an umbrella out for them. She'd seen them leave the pub and was ready with a pot of tea and hot crumpets by the fire. Steve had explained that Abby was staying at the Craig and that seemed enough for Mrs. Sanders, who tutted over their damp coats and chivvied them into the cozy sitting room to warm up in front of the roaring fire.

The tea and crumpets had been heavenly, filling up the holes left unsatisfied by the wedges. Afterwards she curled up in the huge wing chair and promptly fell asleep. It was dark when Steve shook her gently awake, explaining that a taxi was waiting to take her back to the Craig Hotel and her shoes were dry. Hardly given time to do more than voice her thanks and make a meeting for the next day, Abby was in the car and on her way the short distance to her hotel.

Now, after a hot shower and the prospect of a warm bed, she sat staring into the flames and pondering why fate had thrown her in the path of another Stephen, although this one was a Steve, and looked nothing like the man she'd known before. Sure, he was tall and rangy and wore his clothes like a runway model, but those were the only similarities. Stephen Hart had been a man of action and vitality, bold and in some ways arrogant. The man she'd met today was almost the complete opposite, being shy and withdrawn, hardly an extrovert and not likely to have ever held a gun.

It was just fates way of messing with her head that he had the same name, nothing more.

She did wonder how he'd got the scars though. He was an enigma, some of his fascination being that he was suffering from amnesia. It wasn't every day that you met someone who had no memory of his past life, who had to live with the knowledge that everything would now be for the first time, places, people, even memories themselves. It gave him an allure that drew her like a moth to the flame. She didn't consider it sexual, he was hardly God's gift to women, unlike his namesake, but there was something that made her want to know more.

Her attraction to Stephen Hart she could easily quantify as pure animal lust. The man was gorgeous and any female with breath in her body would have found something to growl about him. That the sexual attraction had died a death with Helen Cutter's revelations had been a knee jerk reaction on her part, based on her feelings of disappointment that Stephen was no better than any other man, no shining knight but a man with feet of clay. Despite her hurt and dismay at his duplicity, it hadn't entirely killed all her attraction to him, it had only quashed her silly romantic daydreams, as effectively as a dash of ice water.

Stephen had remained as dashing and drop-dead gorgeous as ever, just not the romantic ideal she'd built up so many air castles about.

Since his death she'd tried to analyze and deal with her feelings for him, but failed completely. Her attraction to tall, lanky mysterious men as firmly in place as ever, evidenced by her interest in Steve whatever-his-surname-was, a mystery man if ever there was one.

She'd managed to get him to agree to a meeting at the library the following morning. Maybe she'd learn more about him then.

Yawning again, she hauled herself out of the chair and loped across the thick carpet to the insanely comfortable bed. Sleep overtook her as she pondered how she could get him to trim that horrible mustache so she could see his mouth when he talked.

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Stephen ran his hand over his beard and wondered how he'd managed to ignore it for so long, letting it get into the state it was. It was a miracle Abigail hadn't run screaming away from him, looking as he did like some wild man of the woods.

Thinking of her brought the picture of her curled up in the chair, her feet tucked under her bottom, and her head resting against the wing. Mrs. Sanders had advised him to let her rest as she looked all done in, and he agreed. Happy to watch her sleep, he'd stretched out his legs and opened his book to the marked page, but for some reason the text didn't have the magnetic pull of the small figure in the chair opposite.

When the taxi arrived, he'd leant over her and jostled her gently awake, his hand curled around her shoulder. She'd woken up like a kitten, all eyes and pink tongue when she yawned, blinking up at him sleepily. Mrs. Sanders had bustled in and broken the moment, Abigail finding herself bundled into her scarf and dry shoes, but not before she extorted a promise of a meeting at the library in the morning. He'd agreed, but couldn't really rationalize why. He hadn't embarked of his tour of the British Isles with a view to making friends or finding a companion, but fate seemed to have other ideas.

Now he stood, staring back at himself in the bathroom mirror, and wondering what a vibrant girl like Abigail would see in a scarred and grizzled eccentric like himself.

Maybe he should think about getting a hair cut. In the meantime, he could trim some of the excess around his mouth and chin, and maybe tame some of the length off his rogue beard.

For the next few minutes the bathroom echoed to the clip of scissors, the sink quickly filling up with trimmings. The end result was still enough to hide the worst of the scarring, but less likely to frighten small children the next time he went out.

Satisfied, he swept the waste into the bin, and pulled on a t-shirt to cover his torso. He hated mirrors for the most part, because they were merciless in showing how ugly his body looked under his expensive clothes. He'd have to make sure he was as covered up as possible, including gloves, before he met Abigail the next day. He didn't think she'd noticed his hands, or at least he hoped she hadn't. He couldn't hide all the scars on his face, but maybe enough for the worst to pass unnoticed.

Why he was worrying about it, he couldn't explain. He just didn't want to see the inevitable look of disgust on her face that always appeared when anyone saw the extent of his scarring. For the most part it remained hidden away, and he preferred it that way.

Before he climbed into bed, he stood at the upper window and stared out over the town towards the Lake and the distant lights where the Craig Hotel stood on a rise. He wondered briefly if she was thinking about him, then just as briefly chided himself for a romantic fool.

Pulling the curtains closed he flopped down on his bed and snagged the book he'd started at the pub. Despite his best efforts, he simply couldn't drum up much enthusiasm for the ultimate fate of all biological species. He much preferred to consider what Abigail looked like when she laughed, and if she tasted as sweet as her lips promised.

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to be continued...


	4. Reconnecting

3/3/08

Title: Forgotten

Chapter: 4 – Reconnecting

Author: Squeezynz

Setting: Post S2Ep7

Pairing: Stabby

Author's Note: Just to clarify. Stephen is known as Steve to Abby, who is known as Abigail to Stephen/Steve. It may seem a stretch that she doesn't recognize him, but he doesn't look the same, behave the same or sound the same. And she's not expecting it to be him, so she doesn't 'see' him.

He doesn't recognize her because she also doesn't look the same, is using her full name not her pet name, and he has amnesia as his excuse.

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The ringing of the phone jerked her out of a dream involving herself, a beach and someone who really knew how to kiss. Muttering to herself, she reached out from under the covers and snagged the offending piece of technology and pulled it to her ear.

"Yeahmmm?"

"Miss Maitland?"

"Speakin'."

"There's a gentleman here who says he's expected."

For a second her brain refused to interpret what the hotel manager was telling her.

"Pardon?"

"He says you were expecting him for breakfast?"

An image flashed into her head of a long lean body served up on a silver platter with nothing more than an apple in his mouth.

"Oh...er...sure...I did?"

"I can tell the gentleman to leave, if you would like?" She heard another voice talking to the manager, then that voice came on the line.

"Hey Abigail, it's Steve...I know you said meet at the library, but the day's too nice to be shut up indoors. I thought you might prefer to do something else."

The slightly hoarse male voice sent a wash of warmth prickling down her body, making her shiver.

"Um...sure...er...has it stopped raining?"

"Yeah. Get dressed, I'll meet you in the dining hall."

"Sure...yeah...see you in a tick."

She continued to hold the receiver even after he'd hung up the other end. After a second to process what he'd said, she practically hurled the phone back onto its holder and scooted out of bed. Flinging back the curtains she could see clear across the lake to the distant hills. Sunlight made her squint and shade her eyes, the sparkling water bringing a smile to her face.

It was too nice to be indoors. Rushing through her morning ablutions, she dithered over what to wear. Her wardrobe was limited at best, Abby not expecting to be doing much other than sitting and researching. She had packed some gear for tramping, in case she had an opportunity to explore, so she donned a pair of black jeans, hiking boots, a thick jumper over a thermal and a long sleeve t-shirt, topping the whole ensemble off with her trademark long scarf, beanie and gloves.

Giving her damp hair a casual glance, she jammed the beanie down on over her dark locks and dashed out the door, her phone and wallet crammed into a small knapsack. She was only on the second floor of the hotel so took the stairs, jumping down two at a time to reach the ground floor flushed and breathless. In all it had only taken her thirty minutes from the phone call to skidding to a halt on the parquet flooring, a record in anyone's books.

At a more sedate pace, she walked into the breakfast room off to the side of the foyer and scanned the room. She spotted him sitting near to one of the huge bay windows that looked out over the grass slope leading down to the lake. He was pretty much wearing what he'd worn the previous day, except the dark cargoes were now a pair of casual fit caramel cords, ending in sensible leather tramping boots.

Taking a detour to the table holding the breakfast choices, she filled a bowl with muesli and fruit, topped with yogurt and snagged a couple of slices of toast. There was already a teapot and mugs at his table so she didn't bother with a hot drink, just wended her way through the tables towards him.

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Stephen sat half turned with his shoulder to the room. He usually opted to have his back fully to the room, to avoid the glances and looks he sometimes intercepted, but he didn't want her to think he wasn't expecting her, so he sat in semi profile, her chair pulled out ready for her.

Just before she reached their table, he looked up and encountered her wide blue gaze, brimming with good humor, her lips pulled back in a welcoming smile.

"Good morning...I'm glad I chose the right stuff to wear." She glanced down and he did likewise, noting that they were both wearing rugged footwear.

"I thought we could take advantage of the fine morning and maybe take a drive, or hike somewhere."

He waited for her to put her bowl and plate on the table before offering to pour her a mug of tea. She smiled her acceptance, shaking her head when he offered the sugar, nodding when he offered the milk.

Abby sipped the scalding brew and hurriedly put it back down. "There are any number of trails that start right from this hotel, if you haven't already done them?"

Stephen shook his head. "Apart from a couple of forays to the hills around Bowness, I haven't done much."

"We could try our luck and see what fossils we can find?" Abby suggested, munching on a spoonful of muesli and glancing out the window at the view.

"I was hoping you might say that," Stephen hoisted his backpack which rattled enticingly. Abby raised an eyebrow, so he flipped back the opening and angled it so she could see inside.

"My landlady had a kit that her son used when he came to visit. Said I could borrow it."

"Cool. So you know what you're looking for?"

"Nope. But she said there was a good site, known to the locals, just up in the hills behind here. She drew me a map."

"Oh good. Can't get lost then." Abby grinned and sipped her tea. She felt energized and excited, feelings that had been missing from her life for a very long time. She had no particular feeling for fossils, having seen the real things in the flesh more times than she cared to remember, but it was a chance to get to know Steve that much better, and she wasn't about to turn down the opportunity.

They finished their breakfast, making inconsequential small talk about the hotel and the location, then rose to leave. Stephen approached the reception while Abby waited by the front door. A few minutes later he joined her, hoisting the back pack and pulling on his gloves.

"They supply an excellent packed lunch for rock hounds," Stephen explained, holding the door for her when they left the hotel, the sun almost blinding in the clear sky. Outside, he pulled a piece of paper out of his coat pocket and studied the lines on it. Abby tried to peer at the map as well, but could read little of the handwritten instructions.

"We take the road around the lake for about half an hour then head up into the hills. Look for a gate with a red tag on one of the bars."

With those simple instructions, they set out walking side by side, the road empty of traffic that early in the day. Abby kept glancing sideways at her walking partner, noticing that with the woolen hat pulled over his usually weed-whacked hair, more of his face was visible in profile. She hadn't mentioned it when she'd first seen him, but she had noticed he'd made an effort to trim and tidy the full beard hiding his jawline and chin. Also, she'd certainly noticed that his mouth was now easily visible, the top lip well defined and the bottom strong and full.

Stephen also noticed her glancing at him and had to suppress a grin. His attempt to neaten his appearance had obviously worked. "I there something stuck in my beard?" He teased when Abby tripped because she wasn't paying attention.

"What? Oh...er...no. Sorry...didn't mean to stare."

He watched the blush stain her cheekbones and thought it adorable. "I thought it was time I took it in hand. Haven't been keeping much company lately, and I tend to get lazy if I don't think anyone is noticing."

That brought a smile to her face. "I noticed."

They walked on a little further and Abby was the first to see the gate described on the map. There was a style to help trampers and they climbed over, into the sloping paddock beyond. The trail now took them diagonally across the field to the far corner, the going now uphill and steep. When they reached the far corner they looked back and stopped to admire the view down Lake Windermere.

"Worth it just for the view!" Abby puffed, her cheeks pink from the exertion.

Stephen was feeling a little blown himself and merely smiled his appreciation. Over the next style and they were in a small wood, the shade welcome after the bright sun. Birdsong was loud as they followed the faint track, the sun dappling the ground, the leaves damp underfoot.

Out of the wood and they faced a steeper climb zig zagging their way up to the summit of the ridge,

Stephen announcing it was known locally as Lickbarrow hill, a series of cropped open spaces and low scrubby bushland with a sudden drop off and exposed rocky scree slopes.

A strong wind was blowing when they reached the top, the view simply breathtaking. It was still only midmorning, so they decided to find a sheltered spot and have a hot drink. A collection of jumbled rocks provided a comfortable lee out of the wind where they sat and admired the view. Stephen unpacked the thermos and poured a cup, handing it to Abby who took it gratefully.

"You said you were working for a company that specializes in the study of extinct species?"

"Ur...yeah." Abby replied cautiously, sipping her drink and starring straight ahead.

"How does that tie in with you working for a Zoo?"

Abby gave a small laugh. "I guess it doesn't, not really. I'm actually here on a research project, looking up information on someone from the more recent past."

"Recent?"

"Sixteenth century to be exact."

"Oh." He let the seconds tick by, then asked another question. "That's the Tudor period, isn't it?"

"That's right, Henry the eighth, and all that."

"Right." Another pause. "This doesn't have anything to do with Dodo's does it?"

Abby swung her head around, a little shocked. "Um...maybe. How did you know that?"

"Not entirely sure. Must have read it somewhere." He sipped the hot tea, blowing on it to cool it down further. "But I'm right aren't I? They were still just about around in the sixteenth century?"

"Yes...the last reported sightings were around the mid sixteen hundreds."

"And that's what you're researching at the library?"

Abby turned away and downed the last of her tea. "Not exactly."

Stephen caught on that she wasn't exactly forthcoming about her work. "I'm sorry, you must think I'm insufferably nosy. Don't worry, I won't ask any more dumb questions."

"No...they weren't dumb. I just...I'm not really at liberty to talk about it."

She found herself under the intense scrutiny of a pair of vivid blue eyes. "A secret? Not on a treasure hunt are you?" He teased, giving her a crooked smile.

"I wish. Would certainly be more exciting that chasing down some long forgotten character who doesn't want to be found." Abby huffed, shaking out her cup before handing it back.

"Curiouser and curiouser," Stephen murmured, screwing the lid back on the thermos and tucking it into his back pack. "Come on Abigail...let's see what the locals have left us to find."

He got up first and held out his gloved hand for her to grasp. He lifted her easily to her feet, but didn't instantly release her, his thumb rubbing softly over the back of her hand before he let her go.

Abby felt a tingle run up her arm, her cheeks still warm from her reaction to his lop sided smile. Up close, as they'd been sitting in the lee of the rocks, she noticed a number of thin scars marring the skin of his face, one bisecting his eyebrow, another running from the inner corner of one eye down the length of his cheek. Most were hidden by the hair or his beard, even his nose bearing an assortment of thin lines as if he'd been scratched by a cat several times across the bridge. They contrasted with the deeper tan from the sun, and looked still shiny and recent. A legacy of his accident she assumed, maybe made when he went through the windscreen of whatever vehicle he'd been in. She assumed it was a car, otherwise what else but glass would mark someone like that.

He led them across the headland to look for the path leading down the face. Looking down, it seemed a mess of rock buttresses and overhangs, interspersed with slippery gravel slopes and goat or sheep tracks. The wind added another dimension by buffeting them as they negotiated the slope, Abby glad of Steve's strong hand when the going got difficult.

Halfway down, Steve stopped on a wider ledge and shucked his back pack. There was a natural, shallow cave that blocked some of the wind and towards the back was the start of a small breakaway leading to a shale scree.

"I'm going to see what I can find here..." He pointed to another part of the rock face, "you could try here...looks promising."

Abby nodded and accepted the hammer he handed to her.

"Keep the strike point away from you, don't hit the rock too hard, and pry rather than smash, okay?"

Abby nodded her understanding, watching as he lay on his side and started to carefully chip away at the layers of shale already loosened by weathering. She approached her area of the rock face and took a moment to inspect the layers, opting for one that looked flaky and easily loosened.

They worked back to back for several minutes before Abby gave a cry of surprise.

"I think I've found something!"

Stephen turned over and sat up, leaning over her shoulder to better see her find. A large flake of rock had peeled away from the face, revealing an unusual pattern imprinted on the palm size specimen.

"Talk about beginners luck...hang on, I'll get a bag." He patted her shoulder and turned to rummage in his pack for the bundle of plastic bags for that purpose.

Abby held the fossil of a plant in her gloved hand and stared at it in wonder. To her eyes it looked like a common fern, complete in every detail down to the curl in the leaf. Steve returned and held open a zip-lock bag for her to slip the slice of rock into. Abby couldn't stop the smile that lit up her face. Under the overhang, she and Steve were in very close proximity, their eyes meeting as he held her prize up for her inspection. They stayed like that for several seconds, suspended in time, until a gust of wind blew a cloud of dust into the small cave, making them both shield their eyes and duck their heads.

"Damn that winds getting up," Stephen remarked, wiping his eyes with the heel of his hand. Abby scrambled out of the cutting and used her sleeve to wipe the grit away.

"Maybe we should think about getting back?"

"You want to stop now?" Stephen asked, disappointed.

"No...but I don't want to be caught out in a storm either."

"Of course...you're right." He looked up at the sky, still achingly blue, but further away he could see clouds once more massing over the higher peaks. "Look, why don't we go a bit further down and get out of this blasted wind. Then if it starts to rain we can shelter in that barn," he pointed to a lone building sighted in the far corner of the field that butted up against the base of the ridge.

Abby nodded, no more keen than him to end their day so early. Together they climbed down the steep slope, sometimes on their butts on the slippery gravel, until they reached the bottom. An ancient stone wall marked the start of some farmers property, and acted as a very effective windbreak, as well as collecting many of the rocks that fell down the slope from higher up.

Stephen went to look at the rocks, using a small hammer to split them open. He called Abby over after trying out several rocks, the fifth revealing a hidden treasure in it's heart.

"Who needs to climb mountains when they're laying about on the ground?" He indicated the rock field up against the stone wall, another stone rattling down from above even as they stood there.

"Looks like a great place to have lunch," Abby suggested, peering over the wall to the other side which was lush with green grass. "We could sit here, then hop over and crack some fossils afterwards."

Stephen bagged the fossil he'd found, then joined her on the other side. Here they looked out over a fallow field, the grass long and uncropped for several months. Trees made a shelter belt around the perimeter broken only by the barn in the far corner and a gate down one long length.

Taking off her woolly beanie, Abby scratched at her hair and fluffed it out, the wind making it swirl around her head until she jammed the hat back on again. Stephen was busy getting out the sandwiches and fruit the hotel had provided, a closer inspection revealing one to be chicken, the other ham.

"Which do you prefer?" He asked, holding them out, one in each hand, and moving them up and down just out of Abby's reach. She laughed and snatched one, not bothered which it was, too hungry to care. He grinned back at her, then settled with his back against the warm stones. Down in the shelter of the wall, the wind was shut off as if by a door, leaving them basking in sunshine and listening to the distant lowing of a herd and the twittering of a skylark somewhere high above them.

There was just enough tea in the thermos for one shared cup, which was passed back and forth with more shared glances and half smiles.

"I feel like I'm wagging school," Abby announced after finishing off her sandwich. "It's almost as if there's nobody else in the world but the two of us."

"It is peaceful here. Did you ever wag school?"

"Nope...but I always thought it would be fun, just never had the courage to do it."

"I bet you were a shy kid."

"Me! Shy? Never...miss rowdy, that was me...always disruptive and noisy..."

"Nagh...don't believe it." Stephen grinned at her and she laughed.

"You're right...that wasn't me at all. But I did make up for it later. You wouldn't believe some of the dreadful things I did in my twenties..."

"Oh come on...you can't be more than early twenties even now!"

"Twenty six, if you must know."

"Positively ancient," Stephen murmured, receiving an elbow for his teasing. A fat drop of rain chose that moment to fall into the near empty tea cup with a loud splash.

They both looked up and saw the black cloud about to obscure the sun and shed it's load of rain on them if they didn't move.

"Start running, I'll catch you up...go!" Stephen yanked Abby to her feet and shoved her away in the direction of the barn. While she started to run, he gathered up the scattered lunch things and crammed them in the back pack, not bothering to put it on but carrying it in his hand as he ran after Abby.

"Run Abigail...it looks like a cloud burst!" He shouted after her, his longer stride soon catching her up. The rain spots were starting to come more heavily, fat and wet as together they loped over the uneven ground, heading towards the looming barn on the far side of the field.

Of the two, Abby was probably the fittest, keeping up with Stephen's stride as he labored to reach the barn. They were only a few feet away when he tripped and sprawled headlong, the back pack flying out of his hand as he landed heavily. Abby skidded to a halt and went back for him, the rain starting in earnest and stinging where it hit exposed skin.

"Get up you lump, I can't carry you..." she shouted over the sound of the rain hammering the barn roof. Stephen was winded but staggered to his feet and accepted her help covering the last few feet to the relative protection of the side wall.

"Have...to find...a way...in..." he panted, Abby leaving him for a moment to peer around the corner of the barn, looking for the door.

"Here...around here...come on." she led them around the corner to a side door, smaller than the main door. Their luck held and it wasn't locked, the wind snatching it out of her hand and slamming it back against the wall. Stephen pushed her inside and managed to close the door, the closure plunging them into darkness until their eyes got used to the gloom.

The rain was rattling heavily against the metal roof and sides, only slightly muffled by the mountain of hair piled up two of the walls. Stephen and Abby walked further into the barn looking for somewhere to sit down. Finding two square bales, they used those and gratefully sank down on them.

"Are you alright?" Abby asked, noticing that Steve was still breathing heavily and clutching at his side.

"Not...as fit...as I...should be." He replied, dropping the back pack to the floor and bending double to relieve the pain in his chest.

Abby sat undecided whether to offer more help. She hardly knew the man, but she couldn't sit there if he was in pain. She cast about for something to aid him, and spotted some sacks and a heap of loose straw.

"I'm just going to see about making you something comfortable to lie on, I'll be right back." Not waiting for an answer, she made her way to the pile and started to lay the sacks over the straw to make a semblance of a bed. Remembering that he'd been in an accident, she figured he'd be better off lying down and recovering than pretending he was alright. Satisfied with her efforts, she returned to where Steve still sat, hunched over and breathing heavily.

"Come on, I've made you a bed." She slid her arm under his and tugged. He didn't protest but accepted her help, his lips pressed together as his ribs protested any movement. At last they reached the sacks and he sank gratefully onto them, hissing and clutching at his side until the pain subsided.

"Shit...shit..shit," Stephen muttered, his eyes squeezed shut as he waited for the wave of discomfort to subside. He'd felt the impact of the ground through his entire body, but centered on his chest, the rock he'd landed on finding a bone and cracking it. On top of his chronic lack of fitness, it all conspired to make him feel closer to seventy than thirty, his breathing erratic as he fought the pain.

Abby knew it was more than just a fall causing him so much pain, but was at a lost at what to do for the best. In the uncertain gloom of the barn it was hard to see anything of his condition, only the sound of his harsh breathing an indicator that not all was right. Stripping off her gloves she knelt beside him and rested the back of her hand against his cheek. His skin felt cold and clammy, not a good sign.

Stephen felt her hand touch him and turned to where she sat beside him.

"Sorry Abigail, not exactly how I expected the day to turn out."

"Don't sweat it. It's better than poring over musty books any day."

He laughed, the sound turning into a groan as he jostled his ribs. Abby made a decision and pulled out her phone, but when she flipped it open the screen displayed the error message "searching for signal" and no where she held it changed the message.

"Damn."

"What is it?" Stephen asked.

"The bluff must be blocking the phone signal from the closest tower."

"Who were you thinking of calling?" He asked, the pain starting to recede now he was horizontal.

"An ambulance for starters," Abby retorted, snapping her phone shut and tucking it into her small pack.

"I'll be fine...just need to rest for a bit."

"If you're fine I'm a Scutosaurus!"

"A what?!"

"Big herbivore, late Permian...large anapsid reptile?"

"Of course...I knew that." She could hear the smile in his voice and it warmed her. "I have a feeling you know more about my hobby than I do," he commented, having to speak up over the rain still hammering on the roof.

"Hardly. I prefer the living to the extinct." She mentally crossed her fingers on that little obfuscation, hoping he wouldn't pursue the topic.

He lay there listening to the rain and wondered at the fates placing a woman in his path who just happened to have a knowledge of exactly what fascinated him about fossils, imagining them alive rather than just impressions left behind in geological records. The pain in his chest had eased as he thought it over, taking a deep breath without thinking only to have agony blossom everywhere and rob him completely of his breath. At the same time a bright flash behind his eyes sent him reeling, the barn spinning around his head as voices crowded in on him, all of them shouting at once...

"Don't let go" "Open the door" "How could you keep that from me, for so many years?" "Stephen!"

"Well, are you coming?" "Open the door!" "Poor Stephen..."

"Shut up...for God's sake shut up!" He groaned, his sight narrowing down to a pin prick then blackness and relief from the pain in his head.

Abby heard him groan out loud and thought he was telling her to shut up, but then his body arched in a spasm before relaxing back onto the sacks, his head lolling boneless as he lapsed into unconsciousness. Thoroughly alarmed, she shuffled over to him and cupped his face in her hands. His eyes were closed, his breathing shallow, unresponsive to her calling his name and slapping his face. At one point she couldn't be sure he was breathing, panic making her freeze for a second, her own heart pounding in her ears. She leant over him and pressed her ear to his chest, but couldn't hear anything through his thick coat. Calling his name, she unbuttoned the duffel and laid it open, again she tried to listen for his heart but his jumper muffled any sound. Frustrated she lifted the hem of his jumper and wormed her hand up to the middle of his chest, laying it palm flat against his thin undershirt, the heat of his body hot against her fingers.

Now she could feel the faint pulse of his heart against her hand, his chest rising a fraction as he breathed, still unresponsive to her calls for him to wake up. Unsure what to do next, she did up his coat to keep him warm and checked his breathing every few seconds. She had no idea if this was something that happened regularly – a side effect of his accident – or this was the first time. Feeling helpless, she could do no more than keep him company and wait for him to return to his senses. Possibly he was an epileptic and this was a fit, in which case he would recover given time. She had a feeling he'd done something when he took the fall outside, possibly something that affected his chest, but she couldn't be sure. The light was too bad to see any bruising, and anyway she wasn't about to strip the poor man to add to his discomfort. The temperature had dropped several degrees with the onset of the rain despite the shelter of the barn and it was getting colder by the minute.

She would simply have to wait out the storm and his state of insensibility and hope no irreparable damage was being done. She checked her phone again but it still showed no signal, so she shut it in disgust.

What a wretched end to what had started as a perfect day.

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to be continued...


	5. Intersecting

4/3/08

Title: Forgotten

Chapter: 5 – Intersecting

Author: Squeezynz

Setting: Post S2Ep7

Pairing: Abby/Stephen – stabby

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The sound of rain still drumming on the barn roof crept slowly into his consciousness. He blinked to bring his eyes into focus and found himself staring up at the vast beams holding up the roof.

He groaned and raised his hand to pass it over his eyes, pushing his beanie off to rub at his forehead. Instantly there was movement beside him and Abigail's worried face swam into his line of vision.

"Oh my God, are you alright...you passed out after some sort of...I don't know what!"

The pain was gone along with the voices, but a dull ache still hindered his breathing.

"So-ory about that..." Even to his own ears he sounded deplorably weak and shaky.

"Is it to do with your accident? What happened to you? Has this happened before?" She hadn't meant to pry, but his attack had really shaken her.

"Once before...at my flat..." he covered his face with both hands, noting the slight tremor when he pulled them away. "How long was I out?"

"I don't know...fifteen...twenty minutes?" She drew off her glove and again pressed the back of her hand to his face, noting how cool his skin felt. "I think you may be chilled..."

He jerked back a fraction from the contact then regretted it, seeing the flash of hurt in her eyes. "Abigail I'm sorry, I wouldn't have frightened you for the world..."

"I was more frightened for you, than me. I still can't get a signal on my phone and was about to set off for help."

Rolling onto his side, Stephen pushed himself upright, his fringe flopping down to cover his eyes. Once upright he swept it aside and tried to draw in a breath, a sharp pain down his right side making him gasp. Abby noticed right away and put her hands on his shoulders to support him.

"You hurt yourself when you fell, didn't you?"

"I think so...stupid rock, must have banged up a rib."

"Ouch." Abby sympathized, helping him to sit up, biting her bottom lip when his mouth twisted with the discomfort. "Look...I'm going to go for help. There has to be a farm nearby..."

"No...please, just give me a moment. I'll be fine...I'm just a little woozy."

"You said this happened before?"

"Yeah. Woke up on the floor of my flat."

"Have you seen a doctor about this?"

He laughed. "I've seen enough doctors to last a lifetime...thanks, but no thanks."

"What about medication..."

"Abigail...please. I'm really sorry, but I just have to live with it...okay?"

Sitting back on her heels, Abby gave him a tight-lipped look that left him in no doubt of her thoughts on the matter. To her credit she didn't say any more but stood and gave him a hand getting to his feet.

Holding his arm across his middle, he rose awkwardly with her help and had to stand for moment to let the burst of pain pass before he moved any more. His fringe had flopped forward again, almost blinding him. Before he could swipe it out of the way Abby had done it for him, her fingers brushing lightly against his scarred forehead, his reactions too slow to prevent her.

"Do they still hurt?" She asked, holding out his hat for him to put on.

"No. Just don't look very pretty." He snatched the hat from her and jammed it on down to his eyebrows, hiding as much as possible from her searching gaze.

"They're not that bad...and it's not like it's your fault."

"I don't know...maybe it was. I can't remember."

"Couldn't anyone tell you what happened?"

"Nope. And to tell the truth I didn't really want to know. I have these flashes...images...too fantastic to believe." He stopped, not wanting to tell her more.

Abby moved to stand on his uninjured side, lifting his arm to drape it over her shoulders in an attempt to take his weight. It was endearing and entirely idiotic but he wasn't about to stop her.

Together they limped over to the barn door and peered out. Rain had made a river of the roadway, rivulets forming puddles that flowed into a rapidly forming lake outside. The sky was leaden with clouds, the distant and nearside hills shrouded by mist and rain.

"Damn."

"I could go and see if I can find a farm?" Abby volunteered and found herself steered back into the barn and away from the door.

"No way. You'd be drenched in seconds. We'll just have to wait it out."

"But..."

He halted their slow progress back to his makeshift bed. Looking down at her he gave her shoulder a squeeze. "Thanks, but I don't want you going down with pneumonia on my account. We'll wait it out here." He nodded to the roof. "It's dry, sheltered and we still have the remains of lunch to finish up." He looked down again and grinned. "Better than a five star hotel, given the circumstances."

"I'd only give it a three...the service is terrible."

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Stephen passed Abby an apple, the last of their provisions. His ribs had subsided to a dull ache, helped somewhat by his arm held tight against his side. It was getting darker inside the barn, but the rain hadn't let up at all, some of the lake forming outside creeping under the main doors and soaking the concrete floor for several feet.

Their conversation over the past hour had ranged over a great many topics to pass the time. Favorite movies, favorite tv shows, favorite books, although most of those tended to be one sided as he had only a patchy memory of what he might have watched, and only recent tv shows to pass an opinion on. They did agree to having a mutual dislike of horror movies as a genre, and didn't really have much time for populist fantasy movies of recent years. Some he'd had to rely on Abby to describe, having no idea if he'd seen them or not, her description usually enough to ensure he never wasted any money at the video shops hiring them out.

In a way, it was proving an interesting exercise for him to see just how much of his memory was compromised. He'd assumed that apart from automatic skills like dressing himself, reading and driving a car, all the rest had been lost. To his surprise, bits and pieces were starting to surface, his opinion of certain things quite fixed, his reactions to specific topics under discussion too obvious for him to ignore. The biggest hole in his memory was for the people and events in his life for the past ten years. He could recall vague impressions of places like schools, houses he'd lived in, streets he'd walked or driven down, but nothing specific enough to pinpoint them. With the doctored information given to him by Lester, he'd not explored any of the clues, his memory lifting only occasionally to give him a glimpse of something in the past, a face out of context, a place with no name.

Despite the limitations, he managed to hold up his end of the conversation as best he could, Abby not seeming to mind that more often than not, she supplied most of the information while he just sat and listened.

There was a lull in the conversation, so he decided to ask a question that had been begging to be asked.

"Abigail?"

"Hmmm?"

"You said you had lost someone close to you...back in the pub. Can you tell me about it?"

"I suppose." She drew in a deep breath, her mouth turning down at the corners as she thought about what she was going to tell him. "There was a guy I worked with..."

"At the Zoo?"

"No. At my job I'm in now. We weren't close close, but we worked together, and I suppose at one time we had been...friends." She stared down at her hands, her fingers twisting two long lengths of straw around each other, over and over. "I'd known him for several years through the job, and we'd been through a few...things together. His death came as a shock...it was very sudden and unexpected."

"I'm sorry...that must have been hard."

"It was. It kind of brought it home to me...to us all...just how quickly life can change. His death changed everything."

"How did you other work mates deal with it? Wasn't there anyone for you to talk to about this?"

"There was this guy...a friend of mine, we were flatmate's and worked together. I thought at one time...but that didn't work out. He changed too. I don't think he was able to cope with what happened at all and we drifted apart. Eventually he moved out and I requested this research job."

"You needed to get away."

"Yeah."

"Has it worked?"

He waited for her to answer, but she said nothing, her fingers just keeping up their twisting until one of the strands of hay snapped.

"Abigail?"

"No. No it hasn't worked...I just wanted to run away from everything that reminded me of him. I thought...I thought if I went as far away as possible, I could forget what happened. Forget him."

He couldn't see her face because she'd tucked her head down on her chest, her dark hair falling forward to hide her face. Her shoulders were tense and he suspected she was crying. As if to confirm his suspicions, a fat droplet feel on her jeans, leaving behind a round damp spot.

Careful of his side, he shuffled closer to where she sat cross legged and put his arm around her shoulders, tucking her into his shoulder and uninjured side. At first she resisted, her frame tense and rigid, but as the seconds passed she slowly melted against him, her head coming to rest just below his chin, her face still hidden by the silky curtain of her hair.

She didn't sob, or shake but cried silently, more tears dripping off her chin to land on her coat and jeans. He didn't move or make a sound, just gave her his silent sympathy, his shoulder to use as a support. When she did move it was only to wipe at her face with the sleeve of her coat, removing her gloves to use the heel of her hand to clear her eyes.

His side was aching in earnest from holding her up, his breathing shallow in compensation. As gently as possible, he tried to ease his position, a sharp stab of pain making him hiss in frustration. Instantly Abby sat up and away, looking up at his face to gage his reaction.

"God you should have said something." She swiped at her face and tucked her hair back behind her ears. "I should have realized this was an uncomfortable position for you."

"Don't...it's fine...just a twinge."

"Twinge my arse...you've gone all white and your nostrils are pinched."

"You're good...I can't see my hand in this gloom, and you can see my nostrils?"

His attempt at levity had the desired affect, Abby swatting him and letting out a huff at his dreadful joke. "You know what I mean...I wish you'd let me see...I'm sure you must be terribly bruised."

"I really, really like you, but I draw the line at getting my kit off in these temperatures...it could be disastrous for my ego."

"Are you ever serious?" Abby cried, finding it difficult to focus on his expression in the gathering darkness. She leant closer and peered into his face, bringing them almost nose to nose. "I mean it...how bad is it?"

Taken aback to find her practically sitting in his lap, her lips mere inches from his own, Stephen could only stare back at her, his own lips parting in a mixture of surprise and anticipation.

Abby found herself mesmerized by the remaining light reflected in his eyes, drawing closer to him until the warmth of his breath was caressing her lips, her tongue darting out to wet them in anticipation of something she wasn't ready to specify.

At that precise moment spears of light stabbed into the barn and a distant roar from outside made them both turn to see what was coming.

Abby was the first to leap up and run over to the door, flinging it open. Instantly light flooded the doorway, outlining her as she started to wave at whoever was outside. Stephen struggled to his feet, Abby running back to help him as the rumbling outside suddenly died.

"It's a farmer on a tractor. We're rescued!"

A figure appeared in the side door, rugged up in a sou'wester and waders.

"Are you folks okay? Been a hell of a day – flooding everywhere."

"We're so glad to see you," Abby gushed, propping up Stephen who didn't complain at having her arm around his back. "My...er...friend had an accident and needs to get back to town. Can you give us a lift?"

The farmer came forward and peered at the two of them. "Rock hounds?"

"Lickbarrow hill," Stephen answered, "we'd certainly be grateful for a lift back to Bowness, or at the very least to the nearest phone."

"I'm sure I can manage that. Just let me check my bales and then we'll be on our way. Don't suppose you noticed if there were any leaks in here?"

"Not that we saw. The water is starting to creep in under the door, but that's all." Abby informed the farmer, hugging Stephen closer to her side.

"Yup, that's what always happens. If you two can wait here, just got to dig out the drain outside, then I'll take you back to Bowness. Where are you staying?"

"Craig Manor Hotel," Abby replied before Stephen could open his mouth. He didn't bother to add anything, it was probably best to go there first, then he could catch a taxi back to his B&B easily enough.

"Wait here...won't take long."

They made their way to the doorway and watched the farmer climb back into the cab of his sizable tractor. It had a back hoe on the rear which the farmer used to clear an overflowing drainage ditch that was supposed to keep the yard in front of the barn free of water. It took him nearly half an hour to finally get the water flowing away from the doors, the paddocks on either side already sheened with surface water unable to drain away fast enough.

With the job done, and a final check of the hay bales, he pulled the tractor up close to the side door and helped the two young people climb up into the high cab. It was a squeeze to fit three into a cab that usually only held one, but they managed, Stephen doing his best to conceal the amount of pain he was in with each lurch and jostle of the ride back.

The farmer was as good as his word, depositing them in the carpark of the Craig, Abby once more looping her arm around Stephen's back to help him into the hotel after waving the farmer goodbye.

Bedraggled and damp, they were greeted by the hotel manager, Abby insisting that he send for a doctor to see to Stephen's injury, despite his weak protestations that he was fine. While the manager used the phone, Abby led them both to the lift to take them up to her room.

"You wouldn't believe how comfortable the bed is in my room...you'll love it."

"Don't you think we're rushing things here?" Stephen teased between white lips, the nagging ache in his side starting to take precedence over his ability to breath or even walk. "I thought we'd start by having a quiet drink at the pub and maybe a walk about the lake..."

"Oh shut up." Abby scolded, willing the lift to go faster. "You don't fool me. The sooner you get horizontal the better for your ribs."

"Best offer I've had all day," Stephen quipped, heartily grateful for the lift doors opening at that precise moment. "I thought you'd never ask."

"One more corny old joke and I'll let you drop in the hallway. Here we are, let me get my key."

Stephen leant against the wall, watching as Abby rummaged in her pocket. Finding the key she unlocked the door and pushed it wide. The phone beside the bed started to ring and she ran to get it, sitting on the side of the bed as she answered the call.

"Yes...please...and send the doctor up to my room when he arrives...thank you...yes, that'll be fine...absolutely, that's no problem. Bye."

Stephen walked slowly into the room, pushing the door closed behind him. He slid off his beanie, tossing it to land on the small sofa near to the door. Next went his gloves, using his teeth to pull them off rather than move the arm clamped against his side. Abby was also shucking her outer layer, her coat, scarf, gloves and hat joining his in a heap on the two seater. He was trying to undo the toggles of his duffel coat but had his hands batted out of the way by Abby. She used the business of unbuttoning the coat to steer him towards the bed, easing his free arm out of one sleeve, then pulling the coat around to ease it over the arm against his side. Despite her best efforts he still hissed when his arm was unavoidably jostled.

"For God's sake lay down before you fall down. Why are men such rotten patients?!"

"Because we like to give the nurses something to complain about...and you're right this bed is really soft." He was sitting on the edge, trying to reach down to undo his boots, only to have Abby crouch down and do the job in a fraction of the time. Next she pulled the covers back while he tried to ease his jersey off, again Abby batting his hands away to take over the task herself.

He couldn't resist teasing. "I get the impression you've done this before Miss Maitland."

"I warned you that one more idiotic remark would have consequences." With a fulminating look she whipped the jumper over his head leaving him in his undershirt, cords and socks. Stephen yelped and fell back on the bed, Abby tossing the jumper onto the floor and circling the bed to help get him up on the pillows. Instantly contrite, she made to remove his socks but he pulled his feet out of her reach.

"There is no way you are getting any more of my clothes off!"

Abby stared back at him, matching him glare for glare. "And how do you expect the doctor to examine you while you're still fully dressed. "

"He'll manage." Stephen ground out, using his free hand to push himself further up the bed.

Abby rolled her eyes and stood beside the bed, her hands on her hips.

"Of all the ridiculous excuses..." but she was interrupted by a knock at the door. Giving her reluctant patient a hard stare, daring him to move, she walked to the door and opened it. Outside was a member of the staff with a trolley.

"Room service, Miss Maitland."

"Terrific. Come in...I'm dying for a cup of tea."

Stephen watched from the bed, amused despite his discomfort, to watch Abigail dismiss the waiter and pour a cup of tea for herself, and one for him, bringing it over and sitting primly on the side of the bed.

"They have hot muffins, crumpets and buttered toast if you're hungry?"

He lifted the cup off the saucer and took a grateful sip.

"I could use something stronger..." he tilted the cup, raising an eyebrow at her to get his meaning across.

"Not until the doctor's done with you."

"Cruel. He'll only poke and prod then prescribe Panadol and bed rest."

"Muffin, crumpet or toast?"

"I only need to have a decent nights sleep and I'll be a box of birds tomorrow..."

"Muffin. Crumpet. Or toast?"

Seeing the militant look in her eye, he capitulated. The bed really was enticingly soft, and the smell of the crumpets was making him salivate.

"Crumpets."

Satisfied she'd won this round, Abby scooted off the bed and went to butter the crumpets, adding a dollop of jam before returning to offer the morsels to him.

With a truce in place, they munched their way through the afternoon tea, considerably revived despite the lack of something stronger as a restorative. At length another knock at the door announced the doctors arrival. Abby stood at the end of the bed, but Stephen wouldn't let the doctor inspect him until she agreed to leave the room. With great reluctance and a ferocious glare, she went out of the room and took herself downstairs to talk to the manager on the front desk.

While she was gone Stephen let go the pretense that everything was alright, allowing the doctor to ease him out of his under shirt and inspect the damage done by the fall. Some gentle probing revealed that in all likelihood a rib was cracked, the doctor taking one look at his patients chalky face and unusually marked body before prescribing something considerably stronger than Panadol.

"I don't suppose there's any point in me asking how you came to be so scarred?"

"None whatsoever. And don't bother asking Miss Maitland...she had no idea about..." he waved vaguely at his heavily marked torso, "all this."

"She doesn't strike me as a young lady who would be bothered by such considerations. Hold your arm out of the way, this will sting a little."

After injecting his patient with a local anaesthetic, the Doctor bound the ribs to prevent too much movement and wrote out a prescription.

"Now I don't want you to move from this bed for at least twenty four hours, and only then to use the bathroom. The bruise is already swelling and will be worse in the morning. You'll be stiff and sore, so don't do anything stupid and take my advice. Make the most of this bed and don't get up unless you have to."

"I not a guest here doctor...I'm staying at Fair Rigg with Mrs. Sanders."

"I'll let her know you're here and why. She can send anything over that you need, just give her a ring or send your young lady over to collect them."

"Abigail isn't..." Stephen started to say, only to be interrupted by the person in question returning to the room and coming to stand beside the bed.

"I'm not what?" She asked, giving the doctor an inquiring look and ignoring Stephen.

"You're just in time to hear my instructions to your young man. Keep him in bed, by whatever means necessary. He's not to move unless it's for the bathroom. He'll be stiff and sore in the morning, so shouldn't cause you any problems. I've written a prescription. Give it to the manager and he'll get someone to take it down to the chemist before they close. Good day to you both."

"Doesn't the patient get a say in any of this?" Stephen called after the doctor, but the good man ignored him and shut the door quietly behind him as he left.

Abby remained beside the bed, her arms crossed over her chest.

"I'd say that was a no. Now, where's that prescription." She moved around the bed to the side table and picked up the sheet of paper. "I'll just pop out and get this down to the desk. Back soon."

He waited for her to leave before attempting to move. The injection meant he was much more comfortable for the time being until it wore off. Taking advantage, he sat on the side of the bed and carefully stood up. Padding around the bed he headed for the sofa where his undershirt and jumper had been tossed. Picking up both he headed back to the bed and sat on the side, determined to put both back on before Abigail returned. There was no way he wanted her to see the extent of his scarring, to see her revulsion at the sight would be too much to bear.

The bandaging made it difficult for him to move freely, and he only managed to get the undershirt over his head to sit loosely about his neck before the door opened and Abby was once more in the room. He tried to untangle one of the sleeves, but in his haste to get dressed only made a bigger mess of it instead.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Abby almost shouted at him, tugging the tangled garment out of his hand and nearly pulling his ears off when she yanked it over his head.

"Ow...no need to be so rough!"

"What is wrong with you? You heard the doctor, you're supposed to be resting...in bed...not getting dressed!"

"I'll get dressed if I damn well please...hand me that shirt!"

"No!" Holding the offending shirt behind her back, Abby started to back away only to have Stephen lung at her to grab it back. In the process Abby caught the heel of her boot in his jumper which had slipped to the floor. Losing her balance she threw her arms up, one of her hands caught by Stephen who tried to prevent her falling over, only to be hauled off the bed himself so they ended up in a tangled heap on the carpet.

Abby was buried under the broad shoulders and heavy torso of Stephen, his jumper thankfully cushioning her head when she hit the floor.

"Will you please get off me...you weigh a ton!" Pushing at his shoulder, she tried to move him.

Stephen obliged by rolling off her to lay on his back on the carpet, his hand over his eyes. At once Abby was on her knees beside him, thinking him injured again. Instead she heard him give a chuckle, the sound repeating itself. Abby pulled his hand away from his face and saw the big grin lifting his lips. The rat was laughing at her.

"Are you crazy?...What are you laughing about?" In spite of her cross tone, she could feel her mouth lifting in a smile to echo his own. Stephen continued to chuckle, his eyes catching and holding hers.

"I have no idea...I think it has something to do with me being rather accident prone today."

Abby sat back on her heels and grinned at him. "You are rather."

"You seem to have that affect on me...you know that?"

"You mean I turn you into a clumsy oaf? I think you manage that all on your own."

"You smite me fair lady..." he chuckled again, then winced as pain lanced through him.

"Right, that's it...you are going to bed and staying there."

"Whatever you say...sweet Abigail."

Together they got him back on his feet, Abby's face quite pink as she steered him back to the bed and they sat on the side.

"Now will you take off your socks?"

"Now I'll take off my socks...but I might need a bit of help. This blasted bandaging makes it difficult to bend in the middle."

Rolling her eyes, Abby did just that, leaving the room afterwards, just for a moment to allow him to wiggle out of his trousers and get under the covers. When she reentered the room, he was sitting up against the head board, the covers tucked demurely about his middle, so only his shoulders, arms and upper chest, swathed in the bandaging, were visible.

She had deliberately not made any mention of the scars now very obvious all over his body, her curiosity almost at bursting point to ask about them, but knowing that any show of pity or vulgar interest would probably propel him out of the bed and out of her life faster than a rat down a drain pipe. Their relationship, such as it was, was as fragile as tissue paper and would only take one misstep to be broken beyond mending.

Instead she busied herself tidying the room, pushing the service cart out into the corridor, and wondering to herself just where she was going to sleep that night, given her bed was rather full of a half naked male. Of course, she could share the bed with said half naked male, but it might take some finagling to get him to agree. Then again, maybe it wouldn't. He wasn't in any position to take advantage of the situation, quite the reverse, and she wasn't interested in him, in that way, or so she tried to convince herself.

It could work.

A knock at the door announced one of the hotel staff with the prescription from the chemist. Getting a glass of water from the bathroom, she tipped out two of the pills and carried them over to the bed.

"Here...take these. That anaesthetic won't last forever." She held out the glass and he took it, swallowing the pills in one gulp.

"You have a great bedside manner, anyone ever tell you that?"

"No. And talking about bedside manners, you do realize that you are sleeping in my bed tonight?"

"Yeah."

"And that I will be sleeping in that bed as well?"

"Oh." As she predicted, he started to push the covers down in preparation to get up.

"Steve there's no need for you to move...and if you do, I will call the hotel manager and ask for something to tie you down." She waited for him to stop moving. "I'm not suggesting anything, I'm just letting you know so you won't be surprised if you wake up in the night and I'm beside you."

"Um...surprise wouldn't be my first reaction."

"Exactly. We both adults here...the bed is certainly big enough to accommodate us both.."

"True. But Abigail..."

"No buts. You might need me in the night, and I will only worry if I sleep in another room. Anyway, I'm pretty sure the hotel is fully booked, so there probably isn't another room, even if I wanted one...which I don't."

"I was only going to say..."

"So don't argue about it...my mind is made up."

Stephen sighed, the effects of the anaesthetic and pain killers starting to catch up with his eyelids.

"I wouldn't dream of arguing." His word sounded slurred, even to his own ears. It was becoming increasingly difficult to keep his eyes open, the room and Abigail slowly going out of focus until he gave up fighting and slipped into sleep, his head falling to the side on the pillows.

Abby waited a few seconds then gently tapped his cheek. He was truly out for the count.

It was fully dark outside beyond the windows, so she got up off the side of the bed and went to close the curtains. The rain had finally stopped, the clouds rolling back to reveal a handful of stars twinkling high above. The sound of soft snoring came from the bed, the sleeper now slumped partially on his side, the covers slipping to his waist. Ignoring the temptation to look her fill, Abby gathered up her night clothes and entered the ensuite to take a shower.

After drying her hair so it fluffed out around her head, she returned to the bedroom feeling a new woman. Padding across the thick carpet she approached the man sleeping soundly in her bed. His over long hair swept over his forehead, almost hiding his eyes. Long, sooty lashes lay like feathered crescents on his cheeks, his newly trimmed beard no longer hiding the lines of his jaw and chin completely. His mouth looked relaxed, his nose no longer pinched with pain. A dusting of hair on his collar bone blended with the beard coating his long neck, the network of scars running all over his skin like a bizarre tattoo, a miracle of surgical expertise that spoke of the time and effort put in to keep this man alive despite life threatening injuries. The skin of his torso was pale, although his arms and shoulders were lightly tanned, as were his forearms also sprinkled with hair before ending in his broad, capable hands with the long tapered fingers.

She almost felt like she was invading his privacy, by inspecting him so closely, but in truth, she didn't care. The scars only enhancing his appeal, their story, lost to his memory, an intriguing mystery begging to be solved.

Giving herself a shake, she left his side of the bed and went to what was to be her side. Folding back the covers, she sat on the mattress and tried to ignore the man snoring on the far side.

Settling herself on her side she pulled the covers up and over, the quality cotton sheets sliding over her brushed cotton t-shirt pajamas and wrapping her in warmth. Despite the width of the bed, she could feel the heat coming off his body, the awareness of someone in the bed with her totally alien. She hadn't had a regular lover for more years than she cared to think about. Her work had always been more satisfying, both physically and emotionally, precluding any romantic liaisons.

Connor had been the first male to ever be her flatmate, their relationship starting off on a rocky footing but quickly progressing to best mates with the possibility of it one day being more. That was now over and done with, all bets were off and all dreams evaporated into the ether.

Now she found herself once more sharing a bed with a man, one that she had only just met, but who seemed to have the ability to push all her buttons. He was scarred, both physically and quite probably emotionally, he had a damaged past that he couldn't remember, yet he had a sense of humor and a way of making her feel more than she had felt in a long, long time.

Who was she fooling? This wasn't going to last, and as unpalatable as it may be to face up to, if he hadn't been injured, it was unlikely that he would have been in her bed at all, at any stage of their tenuous relationship, if you could call it that. Once again she was building air castles from nothing, just as she did when she first clapped eyes on Stephen Hart. What an idiot.

Thumping her head on the pillow in a vain effort to knock some sense into herself, Abby tried to empty her thoughts and settle herself for sleep. Unfortunately, despite her best efforts, her mind refused to settle, being more interested in the warm smell of the man sharing her bed, the sound of his breathing – so alien and new, and the feel of being in a bed with another human being, so intimate and exciting.

She squirmed to find another position, one that would allow her to fall asleep instantly, but the bed defied her, her fidgeting only succeeding in disturbing the sleeper beside her so that he mumbled in his sleep and rolled fully onto his back, his hand coming to rest enticingly close to her hip.

Abby froze, anticipating something more, but he didn't move, his hand remaining where it had fallen, so close but not touching. Carefully she turned over so that she faced him now, his arm between them, the covers still pushed down around his waist.

Tentatively she reached out a finger and touched his arm, stroking it slowly over the skin, marveling at how soft it felt, even the faint lines of scarring not noticeably affecting how his skin was to touch, like warm velvet.

Emboldened, she wrapped her fingers about his bicep, feeling the muscle under the skin, the heat from his body through the bandages between his arm and his side. It was exciting and scary, imagining his reaction if he woke up to find her fondling his arm. She almost giggled from nerves at the image that conjured up. She could almost imagine his eyes slowly opening, meeting hers, a slow smile curving his lips as he watched her slide her hand up and down his arm. Maybe she'd be really bold and raise herself up on her elbow, the better to bring her mouth to his, to kiss him. She wondered, in her minds eye, what it would feel like to kiss a man with a mustache, if it would tickle or prickle against her skin.

Caught up in her semi dream state she didn't notice when she dozed off into sleep, her hand still curled about Stephen's arm, her head tilted towards his in unconscious yearning.

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to be continued...


	6. Congruency

7/3/08

Title: Forgotten

Chapter: 6 – Congruency

Author: Squeezynz

Setting: post S2Ep7

Paring: Stabby

Rating: Mature – for sexual references. Here be naughty stuff between two consenting adults.

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It has to be said that there are few more pleasant ways of waking up than finding your hand cupping a warm, soft breast. The breast was attached to an equally warm and soft woman with a tousled dark head, who was currently snugly plastered with her back to his front, her bottom tight up against his body in a way that would leave her under no illusions of her effect on his anatomy.

Stephen smiled to himself and lazily thumbed the pert nipple through her thin t-shirt, the nub responding by swelling under the fabric. He nuzzled his nose against her head, inhaling her scent, a combination of shampoo and sleep, her nape temptingly exposed to his mouth. Softly, he started to kiss her neck, lingering to press his lips to her skin, taking his time while his hand continued to gently fondle the firm swell of her breast.

It was still dark outside, the gap in the curtains not even hinting at dawn. He'd risen some hours earlier and used the bathroom, not disturbing Abigail, who slept on regardless. His ribs ached but nothing he couldn't drown out with a couple more of the painkillers. After brushing his teeth with the hotel supplied brush, he returned to the bed, removed his watch, and climbed back under the covers. Almost instantly his bed companion wriggled towards the center of the bed, seeking the warmth of his body. In the dark, he eased himself up against her, careful not to jostle her awake.

He could hear her breathing, feel the heat coming off her and wanted to let his body dictate what happened next, but his conscience reminded him that he'd be a bastard to take advantage of her generosity in giving up her bed by making love to her.

Instead he'd lain on his back, Abigail snug up against his side, and tried to go back to sleep.

He'd succeeded, after a fashion, but not more than a couple of hours later he was once more awake, his hands having taken advantage despite his best intentions. He had no idea of knowing when he'd last been in such a situation. For all he knew he had a girlfriend already, maybe even a wife, but then surely Lester would have told him, or let whoever she was visit once he was fit and well. Since that hadn't happened, he could only assume that for whatever reason, he was as single as a man could be.

The way his body was reacting to Abigail told him it had been probably quite some time since he'd taken a lover, all his senses screaming at him to do more than just tease himself into a state of sexual frustration. He shifted further down the bed, giving him greater access to her back and shoulders, his mouth wandering all over her exposed skin, his free hand continuing to exploit it's position while his legs curled around her, keeping her firmly seated against his groin.

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Abby was having a wonderful dream. Someone was making love to her, his large hands gently fondling and stroking her breast, exciting the nipple so that is ached for more. Not only were his hands busy, but his mouth was kissing her neck, sending ripples of sensation down her nerve endings, making her want to arch and purr like a cat, her thighs pressing together to relieve some of the pulsing ache between them, her bottom pressed hard up against a very aroused part of a males anatomy. She felt breathless and languid, pressing her breast into the hand still cupping it, wishing that her dream lover would do more, the mouth kissing her shoulder tickling and sending prickles all over her skin until she felt flushed and hot everywhere.

She moaned and pushed back against the erection nudging her bottom, wishing that her clothes would spontaneously evaporate to allow her lover to ease the ache between her legs with the heat pressing so urgently against her. Now she did arch, urging the hand at her breast to explore the other one, her movements setting up a friction against the cloth of her t-shirt until she almost wanted to scream and groan at the same time, to beg for more than the gentle, soft caresses driving her mad.

As if reading her mind, her lover pressed his mouth to the juncture of her neck and shoulder, sucking on the flesh while flexing his arms muscles to pull her back against his chest in a possessive move that had her almost squealing, at the same time grinding her bottom into his lap to make him groan as well.

Unable to bear the teasing any more she suddenly turned over to face him, his hands lifting then repositioning to hold her against him, her free hand reaching under the covers to cup him through his boxers, sighing with satisfaction to feel the hard length of him swell against her fingers. He had his hand down the back of her pajama bottoms, cupping and squeezing her bottom, pulling her closer while his mouth found her neck and jawline and lavishing attention there making her throw her head back to give him access everywhere.

Suddenly she was on her back and he was looming over her, his hands bracketing her head and his mouth descending on hers in a flurry of scorching heat and frenzied passion. She'd wanted to know what it was like to kiss a man with a beard, and now she was finding out. His lips were gentle but firm, his tongue insistent but tender, inviting her to join him, teasing and tempting. His whiskered heightened the sensations, tickling and teasing and softer than she imagined.

She parted her legs to allow him to lay between them, his heat pressing urgently against her own, her legs wrapping around his middle to hold him there, her body arching up to meet his, her hands skimming over his skin in a frenzy of need. They were both moaning, her breathing erratic as he left her mouth to find her breast, taking her hard nipple into his mouth through her t-shirt making her squeal and gasp, his fingers finding the other and bringing it to a peak to match its twin.

He was heavy and hot and his sex was being rubbed against her own, an insistent rocking that she echoed, now almost mad with desire and the heat spreading through her body. One of his hands found the waistband of her pajamas, burrowing over her stomach to rake through her short curls to the swollen folds below, those slender strong fingers finding her core and making her keen with the pleasure of it.

His mouth was back on hers, plundering and invading, mirroring what his clever fingers were doing between her legs, her fingers raking through his hair to hold him to her, her hips bucking up to his, offering and pleading for the torment to end.

"Too many clothes..." his hoarse whisper against her lips sent her into a fever of activity, her top flying over her head and off the bed to be quickly followed by her pajama bottoms, at last able to feel him skin to skin, velvet against velvet and heat against heat. She was so open and ready she almost cried at the delay, she wanted him to fill her now, not a second later, her chest heaving as she waited for him to get rid of his boxers. At last he was there, pressing into her, hot and hard, her body urging him on, his mouth finding her naked breast and suckling hard, her heels digging into his thighs as he eased himself inside her, both of them crying out at the feeling of being finally joined.

Liquid heat and pulsating flesh started to move, a slow rhythm that built up into a faster tempo, Abby lost to everything but the feel of him in her and around her, his mouth tasting and teasing while his body worshiped her, his arms holding him up as coordination became lost in the race to reach orgasm. Abby thrashed her head and clutched at his back, her nails raking as she thrust up to meet him, his growl against her neck tipping her over and sending her flying, convulsing around him as he pounded into her, her climax bringing his on so that they shuddered and clutched each other in a tight embrace, riding out the storm until it receded and they gasped their way back to earth.

Hearts pounding, they lay still joined, cocooned in the wreck of the bed, the covers every which way and the chill of the air drying the sweat pooling on their skin.

With a groan, Stephen pulled out of Abby, collapsing by her side, his head tilted back as he sucked in breath after heaving breath. Abby felt boneless and exhilarated, her heart thundering out a rhythm as she lay supine and exhausted.

She lay staring up at the ceiling, her skin tingling as well as other parts of her. She was fully awake, and had been for some time, her dream lover dissolving into her real lover with the first kiss between them, her realization not slowing down her response, Abby refusing to feel anything but pleasure in the act, taking the gift for what it was and not questioning the whys or wherefore's. It had been too long since she wanted to climb so thoroughly into someone else's skin, to share all of herself, all the intimacies of her body with another. Steve had done more than just make love to her body, he had proved to her that she was completely alive, her body craving the touch of another with no regrets or guilt. She didn't care that she knew nothing about him, that he was scarred probably more inside than out, that didn't matter. She had needed him and he had been there, a gift at a time in her life when she was sorely in need of reconnecting with herself.

"Abigail?" His deep voice washed over her in the darkness, his hand reaching out and finding hers, interlacing their fingers, Abby squeezing his to let him know everything was alright.

"I'm here." Turning on to her side, she leant forward and kissed him, Stephen pulling the covers over her and moving so that she could snuggling up against him and share his warmth.

"You okay?" She heard his voice as a rumble in his chest, her head fitting neatly into his shoulder, his arms holding her close.

"Fine." she replied, then smiled against his skin. "Better than fine...bloody marvelous."

He chuckled and gave her a squeeze. "Yeah...me too."

She dozed, draped against his side, her hand on his chest above the bandages, curled at the base of his throat where a pulse beat in time with his heart.

Light started to seep into the room, the hills starting to show their outline beyond the curtain, the lake turning from ink to slate as the sun turned the sky from indigo to eggshell.

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The insistent ringing of her phone roused Abby from a deep sleep. The warm body next to her shifted as she rolled, her hand reaching out to search the bedside table for the offending technology.

"Yes?"

"How's it going?" Connor's voice sounded too loud and she winced. "Thought I'd give you a ring and see how you are."

"Oh...um...I'm fine..." she squinted at the clock and winced again. "You're up early?"

"Had to go into the ARC at the crack of dawn...had a flurry of sightings but no anomaly alerts."

"Oh...anything interesting?" The bed shifted behind her and a warm hand came to rest on her exposed flank, a thumb stroking lazy circles against her skin, promising more and distracting her.

"Nothing prehistoric, a lake of steaming sulfurous water appearing out of nowhere...again. Some odd things flying about, nothing concrete, just rumors How's the research into Helen coming along?"

The hand was smoothing over her hip, soon joined by a pair of lips kissing their way up her back making her shudder and blush all over. She had been propped up on her elbow to take the call, but now collapsed onto the pillows, her back still to her lover as he continued to stroke and kiss his way up to her neck.

"Um...slowly, very slowly...I'm currently looking in the sixteenth century, but it's hard going."

"Sure, sure...and it's nice up there in bunny country?"

Abby snickered at his reference to Beatrix Potter. "Very nice...I'm having a blast."

"Great. So when are you planning on coming back?"

The lips were nuzzling her nape, sending trickles of heat down her body to between her legs, her thighs moving to try and relieve some of the tension, the hand on her hip moving down to do just that.

"Um...don't know..." she was having difficulty stringing her words together, her body stretching and unfolding to give her lover more access, his hand finding her sex and making her gasp.

"Are you alright Abby? You sound...strange."

"I'm fine...gotta go...talk to you later..." She snapped the phone shut on Connor's distant sounding goodbye, the phone clattering onto the bedside table as she turned to meet the mouth causing such havoc to her nervous system.

The next half an hour was spent in pleasurable dalliance, the bed once more reduced to a disaster area before the battle was won and they lay entwined and exhausted, the morning sun gilding exposed flesh and tousled heads.

Draped over his still bandaged torso, Abby stared contentedly across the bed to the window, the sun now high enough in the morning sky not to blind her. The chest beneath her cheek rose and fell rhythmically, the thump of the strong heart inside soothing her jumbled thoughts. His hand smoothed over her hair, stroking her like a cat and making her want to melt into him.

"We really can't stay in bed all day..." Abby yawned and turned her head to prop it on her hand and stare heavy lidded into the face of the man she was using for a pillow.

"Is the research that important?" Stephen asked, looking into her sleepy face and wondering if he had the stamina to go another round of seduction. His back ached and his ribs were complaining, but it was all worth it to have his sweet Abigail looking at him with what he hoped was love in her eyes.

"Kinda...plus I can't expect to stay living off the government forever without some sort of result for my time spent here."

"Government?" His expression reflected his surprise and Abby mentally kicked herself for letting that slip.

"Not exactly...more like a department of a department...thing."

She toyed with the whiskers around his chin, stroking them and curling her finger in the hair.

"I wonder what you look like without all this..."

Stephen had been staring off to the side, his eyes flicking back to her for a second before resuming his previous engrossment. "Not a pretty sight."

"What does that matter? Didn't affect your...er...performance any." She grinned up at him, his glance coming to rest on her naughty expression, a chuckle jostling her about as he laughed.

"I'll take that as a compliment...I think."

"As intended...but seriously..." she reached up a hand and swept his overlong fringe away from his eyes, his long lashes sweeping down as she did so. "I reckon there's a rather gorgeous guy under all this fuzz."

He caught her fingers, pulling them down and away from his face, pressing them against his lips before dragging them down to his chest and holding them there.

"Oh no...the fuzz stays."

Abby pouted but didn't push the point. Laying her head to the side she listened to the thump of his heartbeat, her free hand tracing the line of a scar that disappeared under the bandaging. He'd already said they didn't hurt him any longer, but they looked like they must have hurt unbearably at the time of the accident. She had been so caught up in the love making, she hadn't thought twice about the scarring, her fingers noticing the ridges and lines, but only as part of him, not something to worry about or be repulsed by. That he carried a pretty big insecurity about them had been obvious from the start, but she hoped their love making had made him realize they meant very little in the grand scheme of things. Lifting her head she pressed her lips to one of the larger slashes on his chest, following the line of the scar to his collar bone, his breathing becoming more and more erratic as she kissed and licked her way across his shoulder and up his neck, nuzzling the hair coating his jawline until she arrived at his mouth, her tongue darting out to taste him. She was now nose to nose with him, her wide blue eyes drowning in his, his hands supporting her loosely, her own resting either side of his head and braced against the pillows.

"You have the most indecently beautiful eyes," Abby remarked, her own roaming over his features as if cataloging them. Last night had all been about touch and smell and taste, the darkness drawing a concealing curtain so that all the other sense could take over and make the experience so much more intense. Now in the light of the late morning sun she could look her leisure, enjoying being up close and personal, of seeing the muscles and limbs that had taken her to heaven and back, despite their marred surface. Whatever had happened to him didn't change the fact he was a gentle and considerate lover, a man who knew how to treat a woman, a man she could easily come to love.

His arm reached around so that he could stroke up the long line of her back before reaching down to cup her bottom, his lips parting in a wide grin.

"And you...sweet Abigail have the most delectable arse," he slapped it lightly, making her giggle, a second before flipping her once more onto her back and claiming her lips with his own. The tussle that followed ending with a delightful quickie, Abby actually sinking her teeth into his arm with the sheer foundation shaking force of her orgasm.

Afterwards she lapped the wound, apologizing for her animalistic response. Stephen just laughed and told her to forget about it, what was one more mark on a man covered as he was.

This time Abby didn't linger in bed, the need to have a shower now paramount if she was ever going to get any work done that day. She gathered up her pajamas and scooted into the en suite, Stephen enjoying the view of her pert bottom as she padded away from him. He waited until he heard the shower going full blast then eased himself out of bed. He ached everywhere, most of it pleasantly, some of it not. Stretching to his full height, he heard several of his joints pop, his injured rib joining the chorus of complaint about the last few hours activity. Unrepentant he picked at the tape holding the strapping about his chest and quickly unwrapped the bandages, peeling them away to reveal the extent of the bruising on his side. The pills he'd taken earlier were wearing off, so he popped the bottle and took another couple. Naked, he padded across the carpet to the bathroom door, knocked then went in, a wave of steam greeting him as he entered the small room, the sound of running water loud after the quiet bedroom.

Pulling open the glass shower door he stepped into the hot and steamy interior, Abby's naked back to him, her hair slicked down on her head, the smell of something flowery heavy in the air.

"Mind if I join you?"

Abby turned and grinned at him. "Not a bit...you couldn't do my back for me could you?"

"Yeah...hoping you would say that."

The shower ended up taking far longer than usual, a large quantity of water ending up on the floor and soaking the bath mat before the tap was turned off and they emerged wet and laughing, exchanging kisses and caresses in the foggy bathroom.

"You're insatiable!" Abby protested, accepting the towel held out to her and rubbing her hair dry. She drank in the sight of him as he toweled his head, the scarring less evident in the steamy atmosphere, his body lean and strong and irresistible.

"For you I'm whatever you want," Stephen replied, wrapping her in one of the large fluffy towels, his arms keeping her close.

"And if I want you now?" Abby teased, a wicked glint in her eyes.

Stephen groaned in mock exasperation. "But I just got clean!"

Abby laughed and leant in for a kiss, her arms about his neck as he continued to rub the towel all over her and kiss her senseless at the same time. When they broke for air, she stepped back and took the towel from him.

"My turn."

He submitted to her drying him off, her slow progress up and down his body leaving him tingling all over and fully aroused again. He glanced down at himself then up at her, an eyebrow crooked upwards at the results of her mischief making. Abby took her time in looking, eventually wrapping her hand around his erection and stroking the hard velvet heat with slow and steady strokes.

Stephen had to lean against the wall, his legs threatening to give out on him. Abby continued her sweet assault, leaning in to kiss his flat nipples, planting open mouthed kisses over his chest, carefully avoiding the darkening bruise at his side. She dipped her tongue in his navel and smiled as the muscles of his stomach jumped and quivered.

"You're going...to kill...me," he panted, her hand still working it's magic, her mouth making his skin twitch. He closed his eyes, spark igniting in the darkness as he came hard in her hand, shuddering against the cool tiles while she stood on tip toes to kiss him.

"Are you dead yet?" she asked, grinning unrepentantly.

"Dead and buried." He grinned back at her, too tired to do more than drag her in for a kiss then let her go again.

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They went downstairs to get breakfast, only to find it was nearly the end of the lunch session, having to make the best of what was left even as the kitchen staff appeared to clear it all away. It meant they were the only occupants of the dining room, choosing a seat near one of the windows but screened from the rest of the room by a large palm.

Like kids discovering food for the first time, they fed each other from their plates, shy glances interspersed with quick grins, a piece of bacon provoking a kiss that made them wish they were back in the bedroom again.

Abby had never felt this way before. She was floating on a high she never wanted to come down from. She felt as if she was teetering on a precipice, or riding a roller coaster, everything more intense and scary but so enjoyable she never wanted it to end. This scruffy scarred man with no memory of his past was fast becoming everything she could ever want. She even considered that she might just have fallen in love with him, without knowing hardly anything about him other than his lovemaking. It made her heady with excitement and terrified at the strength of her feelings. How things had changed from a few days ago. Before she had been grieving for a life lost and a world ruined, her own future thrown up in the air with no safe place to land it. Now she was reborn, renewed and in love with life again. She was a new woman and all because of a man with beautiful blue eyes and lashes to die for.

Reality and all it's pain and intruding sensibilities was consigned to the devil. Never mind that she still had a job she could never tell him about, never mind that he had a past he didn't remember but could come back to haunt him at any time. She didn't care, she just wanted to let the moment stretch for as long as it lasted, then maybe a little bit more after that.

She was in love and the world could be rescued by someone else for awhile.

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He was in love. Impossibly and unpredictably, this girl with milky skin and wide blue eyes had stolen his heart and held it tight in her tiny, strong hands.

He couldn't get enough of her smile, her laugh or her intoxicating kisses. The world had narrowed down to just them, their playful banter meaning nothing more than how soon could they return to the hotel room and get naked again. He never wanted the day to end, his appetite sharpened, his senses all so much more alive with her as his sole focus. She had come alive under his hand, but she was the spark that wrought the miracle and gave him his life back. He didn't care that he couldn't remember his childhood or even his more recent past, his future was all he could think about now, his future and how Abigail would fit into that. How he would fit into hers.

He had no doubts that she felt the same, it was there in her eyes, on her lips, in the sparkle that lit up the room whenever she laughed. He was drunk on the feeling, his body remembering the pleasure they'd shared and wanting to repeat it again and again.

He wanted to map every inch of her with his mouth, his hands, his body. He wanted to be there when she fell asleep, be there when she opened her eyes, he wanted it all.

They'd demolished whatever was on their plates, but he was still hungry for more. Abigail was a dish he could never have enough of.

Somehow he would have to devise a way to ensure that whatever it was they had together would continue long after the end of her research assignment. No way was he going to give her up now.

She was his drug and he was happy to be her addict.

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to be continued...


	7. Disturbance

7/3/08

Title: Forgotten

Chapter: 7 – Disturbance

Author: Squeezynz

Setting: Post S2Ep7

Pairing: Stabby all the way.

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Abby glanced up at the clock on the library wall and sighed again. It had been two hours since she'd kissed Steve goodbye on the pavement outside. With the greatest reluctance she had managed to convince herself she had to put some work into the project she was there for, if only to justify the use of the room at the hotel. That the room had a use now beyond just sleeping in was an unforeseen bonus. That she had someone to take back there was another surprise. She smiled to herself, the text of the book in front of her going out of focus as she daydreamed about the man who had changed everything. Just thinking about what they'd done that morning brought a hot flush to her face and made her squirm in remembered delight, various parts of her anatomy and long unused muscles aching in a very pleasurable way. The banging shut of a door made her jump and she hastily blinked to bring herself back from her semi-dream state. The books on the desk seemed to stare back at her accusingly, as if saying 'why did you get us out of our shelves if all you're going to do is let us sit here unopened?'.

Banishing all lustful thoughts to the back of her mind, she pulled the lined refill back in front of her, resuming leafing through the dusty tome currently open, stopping only when it showed a full page illustration of what looked like a maze. She felt her heart jump in shock and her blood freeze, the image jumping out at her, the unmistakable depiction of an anomaly hovering in black and white above the neatly cut shrubs. Here was proof that all those articles sent to the ARC had a basis in truth. Whoever had sent them had some idea of what an anomaly was, and it's importance to human history. Here was proof that anomalies were not just doorways to the distant, primeval past, but to the more recent as well. She searched the text for some reference to where the maze was, any clues to the date and circumstances of the picture. It listed the garden feature as belonging to a grand house near Penrith, Ashley Court, the country seat in the sixteenth century of a family called Stonebridge. She pored over the book, making copious notes, several times finding a reference to a lady that visited on a number of occasions, a noble woman simply known as Helena, her surname not mentioned.

It was the best lead Abby had found so far. Taking the book to the desk, she had the librarian photocopy the woodcut illustration then returned all the books before asking for any information on Penrith and the surrounding area. With two excellent booklets about Cumbria tucked into her bag, she left the library and started back to the hotel.

In her haste, she forgot she was supposed to phone Steve and let him know when she was done, her distraction almost total as she stared at the folded piece of paper in her hand. So total that she stepped out into the road without pausing, only the intervention of a hard body with a strong arm sweeping her back onto the pavement prevented her stepping out in front of a delivery van.

"Woah Abigail...what the hell? You nearly got run over!"

Clutching the coat of the man who'd saved her by the skin of her teeth, Abby stood on the kerb and shook, the piece of paper fluttering out of her hand to land on the pavement unnoticed.

"I never saw it...thank you..."

Stephen felt a trifle shaky himself. He'd seen her come out of the library, but instead of seeing him wave, she had pulled out a piece of paper from her pocket and started to walk away from him. Thinking quite rightly that she was distracted, he jogged after her calling her name. Deaf and blind to her surroundings Abby had walked on not hearing him until she stepped off the kerb into the path of the van. By then Stephen had caught up with her, snatching her off her feet and back to safety, the van honking its horn in annoyance at the crazy pedestrian.

"Hey, you okay?" He pushed her back a little to peer into her face, his hand brushing back her hair.

"Yeah...I was just..."

"Distracted...I noticed." He saw the paper on the ground and bent to pick it up. Abby reacted by snatching it from his hand before he could see it properly. "Abigail...what's the matter?"

Stuffing the now crumpled sheet into her pocket she plastered a smile on her lips and leaned into him, hugging him closely. "Nothing at all now you're here."

Not buying into her deflection for a moment, he gave her a wry look. "I thought we were going to the pub for dinner."

"We could eat at the hotel."

"If you like. Did you find anything interesting in the library?"

Abby pushed away from him then linked her arm with his, resuming her course towards the hotel.

"I found some interesting stuff, and a great deal of not so interesting stuff."

"I see." He waited for her to continue, but Abby remained silent. Deciding that now was not the time to probe for details, he tucked her arm against his side and picked up the pace. "Wanna hear how I got on?"

While they strolled back to the Craig, he told her about his visit to the doctor, his visit to his landlady and his visit to the local fossil museum to have the specimens they'd collected identified and categorized

"I'm sorry to report that what we found are disgustingly common."

"You were expecting something rare?" Abby laughed, "I imagine these rocks have been well picked over by all the local rock hounds. We were lucky to find anything at all."

"Yeah, you're probably right. I still want to get them polished and set."

"Why, if they're as common as you say?"

"As a memento of the day. You gotta admit it was quite a day, as days go."

Abby laughed again. "That's one way of putting it."

They reached the hotel and reserved a table for dinner before carrying on up to Abby's room. As soon as the door was shut behind him, Stephen pulled her into his arms and set about distracting them both, books, bags and coats dropping to the floor unheeded, other items of clothing quickly following until they fell on the bed in a tangle of limbs.

"How...how long have...we got?" Abby managed to get out, her breathing becoming ragged as her determined lover delved into her underwear and made sparks explode behind her closed eyes.

"Long enough," was the answering growl between drugging kisses and tormenting caresses.

She gladly gave in to his demands, craving his skin, her own questing fingers finding his hardness and wrapping around it, anticipation making her as hot as the sun, feverish with need to have him part of her.

Stephen feasted with his eyes and his mouth, pushing her soft thermal t-shirt up before drawing her soft breast into his mouth, suckling the hard nub right through her bra, his arm lifting her lower half up so he could position himself between her thighs and sink home, Abigail wet and ready for him. She was like a writhing flame, hot and silky around him, his mouth marking her as his, her panting gasps urging him on.

It was urgent, intense and incredible, both of them riding the crest until they lay shuddering on top of the bed covers, neither fully naked, but both well satisfied with the outcome.

Abby let her arms relax from clutching his shoulders, her hands falling to the bed to lay beside her head. Half opening her eyes, he met his, drowning in their depths, his body hard and joined with hers as they panted in unison.

"God we're good together," Stephen said softly, his hands smoothing the tousled hair back from her face. She could see the pulse still hammering in his neck, his lips pulled back in a smug smile that she felt mirrored by her own.

"Aren't we just," Abby agreed, shifting just a little and squeezing her internal muscles, making him slam his eyes shut and grunt for a moment at the feeling of her tight flesh around him.

In revenge, he grinned before swooping down to kiss her, his tongue sweeping all before it, possessive and demanding, her response both welcoming and surrendering.

The chiming of the small mantle clock reminded them of the time, Stephen lifting himself off her with a groan, at last able to kick off his trousers, although still leaving him wearing a sleeveless white body vest, the garment molded to his torso as if painted on. Under it she could see the new dressing for his damaged side. Sitting up, she leant against his back, her head on his shoulder, her arms looped about his neck in a loose embrace. Stephen bent his head and kissed her arm, content to be her support.

"I have to go up to Penrith tomorrow..." Abby murmured, finding and nibbing his ear.

"That's north of here, isn't it?"

"Yeah...I shouldn't be gone more than a night." she nuzzled his neck, planting a kiss on any patch that wasn't bewhiskered.

"Not thinking of leaving me behind, are you?" His hand reached up and came to rest on hers, his head turning to see her out of the corner of his eye. "I'm coming with you."

Abby stilled her playful kisses. "You can't."

"Why not?"

"I...we...you just can't."

"Sorry love, but where you go, I go...I don't think I could survive a day without you in it."

She chuckled and gave him a squeeze before releasing him. "I know how you feel." She sat back on her heels and stared down at the covers, her mouth turned down at the corners.

Stephen twisted to better see her, his fingers catching her chin and tilting her face up. "Read these lips...these same lips that want nothing more than to map every inch of your delectable body. Where you go, I go."

They stared at each other for a long moment, as if in a silent battle of wills. Abby was the first to drop her gaze, launching herself at him and wrapping her arms about his neck and holding on tight. "I don't think I can do anything now without knowing you're there...God, what have you done to me."

"Whatever it is...we've both caught it." He hugged her back, every curve of hers fitting his body like it was made for him. They stayed like that for several minutes before they separated.

"Come on...just time to hop in the shower before they ring the gong." He pulled her off the bed and across the carpet to the bathroom.

"If we both go in there, we won't be getting out in time to eat."

"Then you'll just have to stop distracting me!" Stephen laughed, sweeping her off her feet and carrying her kicking and squealing into the bathroom.

An hour later they presented themselves at the door of the dining room to be seated. Both of them had wet hair slicked back and silly smiles only for each other, holding hands as they followed the waiter to their table. Several heads turned to watch their progress, having previously seen the slender young woman in the long sleeved, body hugging tunic over leggings, eating alone on other nights. Now she was obviously reunited with her missing husband or boyfriend, the pair of them head over heels with eyes only for each other. Several dinners turned to their own partners and remarked how lovely to see young love in bloom, wondering if the couple were on a second honeymoon or something similar. Some of the more acerbic remarked they were probably having a dirty weekend away from their spouses, but those waspish remarks were largely ignored. Most of the regular hotel guests were just pleased to be reminded of their own heady days of love and laughter, many feeling lighter in heart at having witnessed such obvious happiness.

For Stephen and Abby all the comments and glances went unnoticed and unremarked. The evening passed in a blur of good food, some wine and a rosy glow. They didn't linger after the meal, but left the dining room and headed back upstairs, the early night put to very good use until the lovers, exhausted and ridiculously content, fell asleep in each others arms, the bed once more both a haven and a disaster zone.

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They ended up using his car, Abby a little taken aback to find it was a similar model to the car they used at the ARC, only a two litre rather than the huge three litre double cab. This Toyota had the same design at the front, and a rear tray, but was only a single cab, a two door in black, rather than silver. It still served to remind her why she was here and what the trip to Penrith was really about. She had all her notes, plus the photocopy of the maze, and only hoped that nothing occurred to force her to lie to Steve.

She was glad he was with her, for more than just the simple fact she was in love with him. He made her feel safe and protected, feelings she largely dispensed with in her role as independent single woman with a career in a largely male domain. That those self same reasons had been why she'd been attracted to Stephen Hart so long ago, she refused to acknowledge. She was even starting to like his face fuzz, finding that his whiskers, when employed with his lovely talented mouth, had the ability to send her into a mindless, writhing, frenzy of pleasure, especially when they worked their magic south of the border, so to speak. Even thinking about it make her want to burst into flames, her face suddenly burning as she turned away to stare out the passenger window.

"You okay?" Stephen had glanced over at her just before she turned away and saw the tide of color in her face. He loved that she was still able to blush, and not only on her face, his current objective to find out just how many parts of his Abigail were capable of blushing, and what he had to do to make it happen. Just thinking about what he'd done that morning, and her abandoned response to his wickedly staged ambush on her nether regions, made parts of him perk up and take notice. Shifting in the drivers seat, he tried to discreetly adjust his trousers without her noticing.

"I'm fine," Abby replied, feeling sufficiently under control to flash him a smile before pulling out the map book and poring over the pages as a way of distracting herself. She ran her finger along the line of the A592, the road they were on having just gone over the Kirkstone Pass, before heading around the picturesque lake Ullswater. They could have headed to the M6 but that would have bypassed all the wonderful scenery, plus they were in no hurry. Penrith and Ashley Court were not too far north of Bowness, about an hour or so by the scenic route. She had already scouted the place they were headed for, finding out that Ashley Court was open to the public, the maze, which backed onto a large acreage of forestry, a popular tourist and off road destination in the summer. In the off season, she hoped to have the place pretty much to herself. She was excited to see how much the place differed from the old woodcut illustration. She also hoped to find out more, from the curator of the home, about the history of the family and their mysterious visitor, Helena.

The last thing she wanted to encounter was an anomaly.

Banishing such speculation, she tucked the map book down beside her seat and sat back to enjoy the ride.

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They pulled off Stagstones road and tooled along the driveway leading to Ashley Court, a monumental pile that sat squat on its foundations, a remarkably unattractive edifice and obviously a victim of successive generations adding their particular building style over the years.

"God that's ugly." Abby announced as they bumped over a cattle grate and pulled into the public carpark.

"I can't judge if I've seen better, but I have to agree with you. Why are we here again?"

Abby threw Stephen a look before climbing out her side of the car. There were only one of two other cars in the lot, and she thanked the threatening weather for keeping the tourists away. Hoisting her bag over her shoulder, she waited for Steve to lock the car and join her, their hands automatically locking together before they walked towards the entrance of the ancestral monstrosity.

All along the roof of the building they could see gargoyles leaning over and leering down at any passersby. Abby gave a mental shiver at their uncanny likeness to several creatures she had already encountered during her time at the ARC. Even the incredibly vulgar marble fountain that sat in the middle of the gravel driveway had carvings that seemed to suggest that fantastical creatures from the past had somehow been used to inspire the artist's muse. There was no water cascading down, so she peered a little more closely, blinking when she recognized a tiny reptile crawling it's stony way around a beautifully carved marble elephant ear leaf.

She hardly needed to see any more, the evidence clearly indicating that the illustration was more fact than fanciful fiction. What puzzled her was the knowledge that the fountain couldn't be any older than a couple of hundred years, maybe younger, more likely from the eighteen hundreds than the fifteen hundreds.

Intrigued, she almost ran up the sweeping steps to the entrance, dragging Stephen up beside her.

"What's the rush?" Stephen laughed, seeing the look of determination on her face and wondering what was getting her all of a twitch.

"I just want to see inside...did you see the animals on that fountain? Pretty outrageous."

"Yeah...ugly mother, just like the house."

"Shhhhh...there's the housekeeper." They stood on the black and white marble tile floor and waited for the woman to approach them, her face expressing nothing but polite expectation.

"Welcome to Ashley Court. I hope you enjoy looking around the house and grounds."

"Thank you," Abby replied, "I was wondering if we could see the maze?"

The woman's expression slipped a bit. "I'm afraid it's hopelessly overgrown and almost impassable." She waved her hands deprecatingly "Despite the income from visitors, it barely supports keeping the house in good shape. There's little left over for maintaining the maze as well. You're welcome to take a look, but I'm afraid you will be disappointed."

"We don't mind...really. I look forward to hearing all about the history of the house and family after we take a look, if that's alright." Abby smiled engagingly and the woman thawed a little in face of her obvious enthusiasm.

"No problem at all...if you care to pay the admission, I'll show you through to the rear of the house and leave you to explore. Just ring the bell when you're ready to see the inside, I'll be in the office."

"Is there a brochure we can read while we look around?" Abby asked, the woman handing over a small printed handout after they'd paid their entrance fee.

"This way please." They were led past the lofty entrance foyer through a hallway leading out to an airy conservatory, which in turn led out to the back garden and the land beyond.

"As I warned you, the maze is quite beyond repair," the housekeeper gestured to the towering yew hedge stretching away into the middle distance. "There's a map of the maze in the brochure, so don't hesitate to refer to it is you go in and get lost." She glanced up at the sun, a few clouds starting to obscure the sky and darken the afternoon. "If you make it to the center, there's shelter there, and down most of the long walks if it starts to rain. I'll make sure to switch on the spotlights, although I can't say how many are still working." As if realizing that she was hardly making the prospect very appetizing to her visitors, she shut up and waved them off.

"Do you get the feeling they don't really take care of their prize exhibit?" Stephen whispered as they walked away. Abby didn't reply immediately, her nose buried in the brochure while she read what little information it had to impart.

"The maze is much older than the house, according to this. It was originally part of the forest surrounding the site, but one of the previous owners decided to anticipate the craze in the eighteenth century and planted the ground with over a thousand yew trees in an attempt to lure the monarch of the period to visit. Apparently is was known as the Stagstones Maze, and quite popular with the local gentry in it's day, but also regarded with some suspicion after a series of unusual events..." Abby's voice tailed off as she read further.

"What sort of unusual events?" Stephen asked, trying to peer over her shoulder.

"Er...it seems there were several people that went missing."

"Missing?"

"Over the years since it was created there have been twenty one unexplained disappearances." Abby explained. "with no particular pattern. They have been noble and common, old and young."

With his arm looped over her shoulder, Stephen leant in and whispered. "Spooky!"

"It also says here that locals think the maze is haunted, probably by all the missing people."

"You mean we could see a ghost? Wicked."

Abby grimaced up at him, shucking off his arm and ignoring the broad grin stretching his features.

She came to a halt several feet away from the entrance to the maze, the unkempt yew hedge stretching as high as ten feet in places, the uncut top sporting many long arms of untidy growth. She glanced down at the brochure, her forehead wrinkling. "It says here that throughout the maze are standing stones, the original Stag Stones that date back to the bronze age, about one thousand years BC."

"I think I saw that movie."

Abby swung around and glared at her companion, his unrepentant grin making her laugh. "Oh you are impossible. You aren't taking any of this seriously."

"You mean you are? It's all just a load of hokum for the tourists. I bet the American's lap this stuff up."

"Alright, we'll see mister cynical. Come on." Forgetting entirely why they were there in the first place, Abby darted away, running towards the entrance of the maze, Stephen a few steps behind her.

They kept up the pace for about a hundred yards down the first avenue then slowed to a walk. The towering hedges were, in some places, almost meeting overhead, the branches blocking the light to make shady grottoes When they reached the first standing stone they paused to inspect it, Stephen crouching down to look at the faint carvings on the weathered surface, Abby studying the map to see where to go next.

"How many of these stones are there?" Stephen asked.

Abby turned the brochure over and squinted at the text. "Umm...thirteen in all, spiraling towards the center of the maze. They make a pattern...see?" She held up the page for him to see.

"Yeah...pretty arcane number. Wonder if it's supposed to be lucky or unlucky?"

"It's just a number. Maybe they lost a few along the way." Resuming her study of the map, she didn't notice Stephen walk ahead a few paces then simply disappear from sight. "I wonder..."Abby looked up and realized she was alone. "Steve? Hey...Steve! Where'd you go?"

Puzzled but not unduly worried she walked ahead and found a side path that stretched for several meters before coming to a dead end. "Hey...not funny any more." She called out, feeling the first trickle of fear snake down her neck.

"What's not funny?" His voice right by her ear made her jump and scream.

"You bastard..." whirling around she flung herself at him, finding herself enveloped in a bear hug, her anger dissolving into laughter. "You wretch...you scared me to death!"

"You look adorable when you're scared...and scream like a girl!"

"Hah...you just wait," Abby grinned evilly. "I'll get you back for that."

"Ooh I'm scared..." Stephen pretended to be afraid of her, pantomiming biting his nails in a fit of nerves.

"Just you wait you smug ratbag..." she shoved at his shoulder to make him release her, her eyes dancing. "Come on...we have to get to the middle of this maze."

"Well you've got the map...lead on."

It took them an hour to battle through the overgrown maze to it's heart, some of the paths knee high with weeds while others had long whippy branches blocking the way. They'd found and passed more of the ancient menhirs, each one having a different set of carvings, some of them hidden by the encroaching greenery. Overhead the sky was getting darker and darker with heavy clouds threatening rain, the air alive with static and the promise of a storm.

Abby and Stephen burst through the final barrier and found themselves at the heart of the maze, a collection of the stag stones arranged in a circle at the very center. Small shelters were positioned at either end of the rectangular layout, with stained marble benches set beside the gravel paths, all of it choked with rank weeks and the overhanging yews.

"This must have been really something in it's day," Stephen observed, walking around the circle of stones, trailing his hand over their smooth surface. Abby stood just outside the ring, her arms crossed over her chest as she turned her head to survey the area. She looked up, imagining what it must have looked like with a sparkling anomaly shining overhead, a fat drop of rain choosing that moment to fall right onto her forehead.

"Ugh...it's raining!"

"The housekeeper thought it might. Come on, lets find the shelter least likely to fall about our ears."

Stephen jogged over to the first, but left it just as quickly, the roof holed in several places. As he approached the second one the sky lit up with a bright flash of lightning, the boom of the thunder following a few seconds later. Abby squealed and clapped her hands over her ear. The fat droplets were starting to fall more frequently, leaving dark spots on the monoliths and weeds.

"Abigail...come on, this one at least has a solid roof!" Stephen shouted over the sound of another loud rumble, the clouds overhead moving at speed as the wind picked up. Abby didn't move, her hands still clapped over her ears, her eyes now squeezed shut to block out the static discharges coming more and more frequently.

"Abigail... sweetheart, come on...you'll get soaked out here," Stephen hooked his arm about her waist and practically dragged her along the path, Abby stumbling each time lightning spiked the sky with jagged fingers of bright light. He hustled them both into the shallow shelter just as the skies opened, the rain falling in a continuous sheet. Thunder rumbled overhead and Abby buried her head against Stephen's coat, her shoulders hunched about her ears. She shook with tiny tremors every time lightning flashed, Stephen holding her tightly and whispering silly endearments into her hair to try and sooth her.

Abby had her back to the storm raging outside so didn't see the anomaly form in the air directly within the circle of stones. A wind like a mini tornado swept over the maze, scooping up all the debris and loose leaves, creating a vortex that cavorted around the stone ring while the light at it's center grew brighter and brighter before Stephens unblinking gaze.

"What the hell?" his awed whisper managed to penetrate Abby's terror, her head lifting to peer up at his face, what she saw there made her forget her fears for a second, twisting around to see what he was seeing.

"Oh my God...it's an anomaly!"

"A what?!" Stephen had to shout to be heard, the storm now overhead with the crash of thunder almost simultaneous with the flash of lightning strikes.

"Anomaly...that thing..." Abby clutched at his leather jacket, torn between watching the portal to the past actually form, something she'd never seen happen before, and the desire to bury her head and block her ears from the storm passing overhead.

The flickering light of the anomaly grew stronger with each passing second, unaffected by the sheeting rain or the leaves and debris being thrown into the air all around it. One singular flash of lightning hit right in the center of the ring of stones, blinding Stephen and Abby, the explosion sending them tumbling to the back of the shelter, the crash of the accompanying thunder deafening them. In the aftermath, the gyrating anomaly expanded and contracted several times before forming a steady pattern, the storm already moving away, leaving behind a path of destruction it would take days to clean up.

Stephen lay winded against the back wall of the old shelter, blinking to clear the spots still dancing in his vision, his ear ringing. Abby was sprawled on top on him, her fingers still buried in the folds of his jacket.

"Abigail...hey, come on sweetheart...we have to get up...we have to get back to the house!"

Abby groaned and took the hand he offered, glad to have him to hold on to, her legs decidedly shaky. They both turned to look out of the shelter and Abby gasped to see the fully formed anomaly still doing its thing between the stones.

"We have to get out of here Steve...these things...we don't know what's going to come through...we have to go!"

"I couldn't agree more...but you have the map?" He held her by her upper arms as she still appeared dazed with what had happened, her body swaying as she nodded her head.

"The map...yes, I have it somewhere..." she started to rummage in her small bag, but when that didn't produce the map she started on her pockets, her movements becoming erratic when it became clear that the map wasn't where she thought it was.

"Did I give it to you?" She asked, looking a little panicky. Stephen shook his head, having seen her with it when he was inspecting the menhirs.

"Sorry love, I saw you with it just before the storm struck."

"Then I've lost it...shit!" She swore and turned to look at the ground, as if anything could have stayed put after the storm had whipped everything not nailed down up into the sky.

"Abigail...what did you mean when you said things come through that?" He pointed to the anomaly, the light coruscating around the edges now taking on a strange color

Abby swallowed and tried to marshal her thoughts. It was pointless trying to come up with a rational explanation for what they were looking at. Steve may have lost his memory but he wasn't an idiot, not by a long chalk.

"I meant that things...creatures from another time could possibly come through that...that..."

"Anomaly?"

"Yeah...they could come through...and they won't necessarily be beneficial to human life."

Stephen stared at her, his expression grim. "What exactly are we talking about here?"

Abby ducked her head and closed her eyes. "Dinosaurs. It's possible that depending on what time is on the other side of that...thing...dinosaurs could possibly find their way through."

Stephen gave her a look that clearly said he thought she was going crazy. "You're joking right?"

Abby shook her head. "Sorry...not even close."

Suddenly the penny dropped. "You know all about these, don't you? This is what you were looking into? This is your research!"

Abby covered her face with her hands for a brief moment then let them drop. "Yeah...I know all about these. This..." she pointed to the gyrating light show, "...this is my job."

"But..." he struggled to make sense of it, "this isn't known by the general public...is it?"

"No."

"And you do in fact work for the government?"

"Yes. But I wasn't expecting to actually find one of these..." at that moment her phone rang shrill and clear in the silence following the thunder storm. "I'm sorry, I have to take this."

Abby turned her back on Stephen and pulled out her phone, flipping it open after glancing at the caller id on the screen.

"Yeah Connor I know...the detector has pinpointed another anomaly." She paused to let the other person speak. "How do I know? I'm standing right next to the thing." Another pause. "Yes I saw it form, it happened right in front of me." She glanced at Stephen who was staring at the anomaly in some fascination. "No...I'm not alone...I'm with someone." She passed a hand over her eyes. "No, of course you don't know him...we just met." She looked up and met Steve's eyes, holding his stare for a few seconds before breaking the connection with him. "It's a bit hard to do that now...he was here when the anomaly appeared." She paced away then back again. "No...nothing has come through as yet...Connor, the location is...awkward."

Stephen listened to the phone conversation with only half an ear. Something was nagging at his memory, some important something was trying to fit what he'd seen into a context he could understand. It was like having an itch you just couldn't reach, his brain clouded and foggy, but with occasional snatches of things and people breaking through the shroud, like now, and presenting him with snippets of things just beyond his understanding.

"Abigail..." he raised his voice, Abby not pausing in her conversation as he started to back away from the anomaly. "Abigail...how soon can you get whoever you're talking to here?"

Something in his tone drew her attention away from talking to Connor, her glance taking in his expression before she whirled to see what he was staring at.

Stephen glanced over at her. "If you have a really big gun down those really tight jeans, I suggest you produce it now..." Stephen swallowed and kept on backing away, Abby now mirroring his movements, keeping them slow and steady, drawing closer and closer to a gap in the overgrown hedge and possible escape from what was starting to come through the sparkling anomaly.

Abby held her phone up to her ear and spoke one last time before shutting it down. "Connor...get help here fast...you're going to need a really, really big gun this time." Snapping shut her phone, she slipped it into her pocket then reached for Stephen's hand. "We need to get out of here, we have to get away before it senses us." The tremor in her voice was enough to tell him they were in really big trouble. He grasped her fingers in his own and drew her to his side.

"Without the map we'll be running blind in this maze."

"I know but if that thing decides we look like dinner..." She choked and they froze, the head of the reptile turning in their direction. "I don't know what it is, but it looks like a meat eater," she whispered, wishing herself anywhere but standing where she was, with only a few feet between her and an enormous carnivorous therapod slowly pushing it's way through the light field, it's mouth sporting more teeth than any creature had a right too. The head was huge, a long snout that tapered to a rounded point, containing many and sharp looking dagger like incisors. The skin was scaly and looked wet, the creature's front legs held off the ground, suggesting it moved on it's well muscled back legs, very long claws testifying to it's favorite mode of capture. It had small eyes and Abby hoped it had rotten eyesight to give them a fighting chance. Just as they reached the overgrown entrance to lead them back into the maze, the spotlights positioned half hidden by the weeds suddenly came on, the creature taking fright and roaring it's unease, stepping fully out of the anomaly and flexing it's fearsome front legs.

"I think this would be a good time to run..." Stephen whispered, tugging on Abby's hand to pull her after him as he backed away another few steps.

"I need to take a picture to send to Connor so they know what they're dealing with." Abby pulled her hand free and slowly fished in her pocket for her phone. With a shaking hand she held it up and framed the creature on the screen. Biting her lip to still the trembling in her fingers, Abby pressed the button, the sound of the click very loud. The creature heard it and whipped its head around, its jaws falling open to display those formidable teeth.

"Oh God..."Abby gasped, her legs turning to jelly as the carnivore took a step in their direction.

"Run!" Stephen hissed, grabbing her arm and pulling her around, the creature behind them letting out a roar as they pounded down the pathway and turned a corner, taking them beyond its line of sight.

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to be continued...


	8. Disclosure

9/3/08

Title: Forgotten

Chapter: 8 – Disclosure

Author: Squeezynz

Setting: Post S2Ep7

Pairing: Stabby all the way

Author's note: OICofficer in charge

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Connor stared at the phone in his hand for a few seconds before tossing in onto the keyboard and turning in his swivel chair.

"CUTTER!"

The siren announcing the arrival of the more recent anomaly had been switched off, the special forces already loading their gear into a van ready to be transported to the helipad, from there to catch the flight to the Lake District. A small squad stationed for just this emergency, further up country at Carlisle, was already racing to the scene, their purpose to asses and feed information back to the main squad mobilized from the ARC.

"What is it Connor?" Nick Cutter appeared through the swing door, shrugging on a thick jacket.

"It's Abby..." Connor announced a trifle breathlessly, his head appearing from the neck of the jumper he was pulling on at the same time.

"What about Abby?"

"She's there..." Connor stabbed a finger at the ADD where, on a map of the British Isle's the pulsating rings were pinpointing Penrith in Cumbria. "She's right bloody there!"

"Of course...Lester said she'd gone on some side project up to the Lake District. Is she meeting up with the reconnaissance team?"

"No, you don't understand...I mean she is right where the anomaly is!!" Connor was almost wringing his hands in frustration at getting his point across. "I mean I just had a call from her and she's standing right next to it, she saw it appear!"

Nick stared at the younger man for a moment, his blue eyes slightly unfocused, then he snapped out of it and started towards the truck, purpose in every stride. "Then what are standing around here for...Captain Richards...all set?"

"Yes sir...just waiting for you and Temple."

Connor was snatching up his phone, grabbing his bag with his laptop, at the same time jamming his hat on his head and trying to tuck in his flapping shirt tails.

"We're leaving Connor...get in or get left behind!" Nick barked, climbing into the passenger seat, the back door of the van still open. As the vehicle started to move, several of the special forces men grabbed Connor by his arms and hauled him aboard, the van picking up speed and racing out of the big double door then around the access road to the helipad.

Aboard the EH101 Merlin, the men strapped themselves into the seats and secured their weapons. Connor and Cutter were directed to their seats and shown the headsets needed for speaking during the flight. As soon as he was secured, Connor drew out his laptop and checked his phone. Seeing another message from Abby he brought it up and stared at the image.

"What is it Connor?" Nick's voice crackled in his headphones so he turned to face him.

"Just had an picture sent of what's coming through...here." Connor swiveled his laptop to show the image he'd just downloaded onto the main screen. The slightly out of focus image was enough to make Nick's eyes narrow.

"Can you identify it? Where it comes from?"

"Working on it."

Nick caught the eye of Captain Richards, nodding to let the man know he'd pass on the information as soon as they had anything to report. The helicopter lifted off smoothly and they were on their way, the vibration and noise making it difficult to concentrate for Connor. He pushed the distractions to the back of his mind and focused on the job in hand, his fingerless gloves not impeding his speed on the keyboard.

They were half an hour into the flight before he lifted his arm and fisted the air in triumph.

"What have you found?" Nick asked, turning his head to give Connor his full attention.

"It's one of ours," Connor told him, " a genuine British dinosaur, a Baryonyx. An unusual therapod, member of the Spinosauroidia family. From what we know, it fed on fish for the most part, and Iguanadon young."

"How big?"

"Up to two tonnes in a fully grown...but the image Abby sent doesn't look that big...hard to tell without a visual size reference. It has a lot of teeth."

"Teeth?"

"More than most, what set it apart from others...apparently discovered with ninety six teeth in all...more in the bottom than the top."

"Bipedal?"

"Yup...long claws on its front legs, can walk on all fours if necessary?"

"Top speed?"

Connor scrolled through his information, shaking his head at the end. "Sorry, nothing to go on."

"Right...big ugly bastard that likes to chew on things."

Connor worried his bottom lip before speaking again. "Abby wasn't alone..."

"What?"

"She was there with someone...she didn't say who...a guy."

"A guy?" Cutter looked at Connor in some disbelief. "Let's hope he's smart enough to get her out of there."

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If someone had told him he'd be spending his afternoon running away from a dinosaur, he'd have laughed in their face, but here he was, running for his life while being hunted by the ugliest mother of a dinosaur he'd ever clapped eyes on. Together, he and Abigail barreled around a corner and almost slipped in the greasy mud being churned up underfoot.

Abby was breathing hard, her hair plastered to her face, her eyes wide and scared. They could hear the creature crashing about in the maze not far from where they stood, its bellows of anger as it charged the thick hedges filling them with a cold, sapping dread.

Stephen scanned the ground, some unknown sense telling him they had already traveled down this path. He couldn't explain what he was doing, but somehow he could read the signs and interpret the messages left by broken vegetation and muddied tracks in the sodden ground. It had been like a light going on in his head, the second they turned and ran for their lives. Suddenly his mind was racing ahead, planning an escape route while watching for signs and signals of where to go and especially how to get out of the labyrinth of pathways.

"It's getting closer..." Abby whispered, her breath clouding the air. The temperature had dropped markedly since the thunder storm, a steady drizzle making the yew hedge drip, showering them whenever they brushed against the branches. They were both soaked and liberally splattered with mud, having had to hide several times low to the ground to blend in with the edges of the paths. She absently scratched at her hand where nettles had stung her, the weeds not helping by choking the pathways and making the going rough.

"We've been down here already, it's a dead end." Stephen dropped to one knee and swept his hand over the ground. "Not many feet have passed this way, we need to get back onto one of the main paths."

"It's right behind us..." Abby hissed, plucking at his jacket to get him back on his feet. So far they'd managed to keep one step ahead of the beast, nearly always keeping at least two hedges distance between them, but that was starting to close up fast.

"We have to double back and find the main path," Stephen murmured, keeping his voice low, "follow me."

Too scared to question why her memory challenged lover should have suddenly turned into an expert in tracking, Abby kept close to his heels, glancing occasionally over her shoulder to make sure they weren't surprised from behind. They had just managed to return to one of the main long walks when a voice could be heard in the distance.

"It must be the housekeeper," Abby whispered, straining to make out the words.

"Hello in the maze...can you hear me?" The high pitched voice seemed to be several paths away, Stephen pressing against the hedge and tilting his head to guage the distance.

"If she doesn't shut up that creature will go for her."

"We have to do something!" Abby hissed, staring up and down the path, looking for a break in the dark hedging.

"I'm open to suggestions." Stephen bit back, his mind trying to retain a mental map of how far they'd come from leaving the center of the maze. A roar close by made them both shrink back into the prickly foliage, Abby clutching Stephen's sleeve with stiff fingers.

"Hello in there...can you call out so I can guide you?" The housekeeper was getting closer, her voice bordering on querulous. "It's getting dark and we'll be closing very soon. Are you there?"

Squashed as they were in the hedgerow, they felt and heard a large creature pass close by on the other side to where they stood. Abby held her breath, sure that at any moment a snout would burst through the bushes and snap at them.

"Just call out, if you can here me, if you're not far from the exit..." By now her voice was near to where they stood and Abby felt fear well up inside her, drawing in a breath to shout a warning to the woman unsuspectingly providing a focus for the creature stalking them. Before she could scream a warning a hand was slapped over her mouth, her body wrapped in a strong embrace.

"Sorry...but I'm not keen to be that creatures next meal." Stephen whispered into her ear, his hand firmly preventing her from crying out. "I'm sorry about that woman...but while it goes for her, we might just have a chance to escape this maze."

Abby swallowed and nodded, hating that he made perfect sense, tears spilling over for the fate of the woman beyond their help. Stephen dropped his hand from her mouth and slowly turned her around, his eyes pleading for her to understand.

"We can do this sweetheart...I can get us out of here, but we have to make our way back to the center to do so."

"Back?" Abby glanced up at the sky, noting how dark it was getting.

"We have to go back the way we went in. While that thing is over here, we can get out the other side."

A roar from close by made Abby cringe, Stephen gathering her into his arms and holding her while she shook. Another roar and the sound of snapping branches was quickly followed by a series of high pitched screams, Abby shuddering to hear what she'd hoped to prevent, what could have been their fate if she'd called out.

"We have to move now...come on."

He kept an arm about her shoulder and another on her arm, hustling her along as fast as they could go. He kept his head cocked to hear what was going on beyond the hedge, but soon they were far enough in that silence and the whistle of the wind was their only companions. Abby had pulled herself together and was jogging beside him, her face set in determined lines, his own reflecting their grim situation.

Following the trail back to the center was a piece of cake for him with his new found skills, Stephen not bothering to question how he knew what to do, only glad he was able to use them Crossing the open area of the heart of the maze, they skirted the sparkling anomaly and plunged once more into the pathways, Stephen following their earlier trail like a bloodhound on a scent. Everything was still quiet, the rustle of the branches the only sound accompanying their squelching footfalls.

"There's the entrance," Abby pointed out, the only thing she'd said since hearing the screams of the housekeeper. Stephen slowed their pace until they were creeping along as they approached the opening to the maze itself. Pressing close to the straggling yews, Stephen searched the ground ahead, craning his neck to see to the left, then the right for any sign of the predator. There was nothing to indicate it had even found its way around to that side of the maze, the ground only showing theirs and the housekeepers recent footprints in the muddy grass.

"It's clear," Stephen announced, turning back to face Abigail, his hands cupping her pale face, their eyes meeting. "We have to make a run for the house. There's a low rock wall halfway. If we can make that it'll provide cover before we make a run for the conservatory door."

"Okay. But you're not going to trip this time...are you?" She frowned heavily at him, her teeth starting to chatter, her clothes soaked and chilling her with each passing minute.

"I promise to keep my feet under me," He leant in for a quick kiss, just brushing his lips across hers to reassure her. "Ready?"

Abby nodded and wished she chosen her heavy hiking boots over her sneakers, the ground looking very wet and slippery, sloping up towards the house and the rock wall.

"Okay...go!" Stephen set off at a slow jog, his head turning left and right in an attempt to spot the therapod before it spotted them. Abby easily kept up with him, her focus solely on the stone wall, their immediate destination.

Stephen was puffing by the time they reached the wall, Abby vaulting the stones and crouching down low on the other side. Stephen scrambled over and then peered cautiously over the edge, scanning the grounds for any sign of the creature.

Around the side of the house appeared a small number of men dressed in black fatigues, moving in a covering formation from the house to where Stephen and Abby crouched behind the stone wall. The man in the lead slid down to land beside them, the other four men positioning themselves to cover the area between them and the yew hedging with the sweep of their semi automatic rifles.

"Are you both alright?"

"The cavalry?" Stephen asked Abby who nodded. She pulled out her wallet and produced an identification card which the OIC read before handing it back.

"We're fine...but there's a large predator out there, unidentified as yet...I sent an image to the ARC..."

"It's a Baryonyx according to the Professor...he relayed the information once they had a confirmation."

"How far away is Cutter?" Abby asked, biting her lip to keep her teeth from chattering.

"Another hour. Is there anyone in the house we should alert to the danger?"

Abby felt tears prick her eyes and swallowed hard. Understanding her difficulty, Stephen spoke up for her.

"There was a housekeeper, curator, whatever...she came looking for us. We're pretty sure the Barryix...er, the Barrinix...the thing you said got to her first."

"Right. How big is the creature?"

"About a ton of lizard with a really long snout and a mouthful of teeth. Walks on it's hind legs and has some wicked claws on the front pair." Stephen explained, the soldier giving him an glance of admiration. Usually the public were prone to hysteria when faced with the fantastical. This man seemed to be remarkably calm and giving them a precise description for a change.

"Thank you sir. That's pretty much the description we'd been given. Help will be here soon, but for the time being I think we should pull back to the house and keep out of sight."

"My thoughts exactly," Stephen shot back, glancing over at Abby who also nodded her head in agreement.

"Right. Well you two go first, we'll form a rearguard."

As easily as that they were escorted back to the house, whatever had been chasing them in the maze still not putting in an appearance as they entered the conservatory and walked through to the house itself. The sound of boots on the marble floor sounded hollow and loud, the house wrapped in silence broken only by the crackle and low voiced conversation of one of the men answering his walkie talkie.

Stephen led Abby over to a comfortable couch in the lobby and they sank down into it. The housekeeper had left a few lights on around the huge space, but hardly enough to lift the gloom of the approaching night. The soldiers checked the rooms leading off the lobby then secured the doors, leaving them all standing in the cathedral like entrance hall, the painted eyes of the Stonebridge family ancestors looking down on them disapprovingly.

One of the soldiers appeared and handed them a couple of towels and a knitted throw, presumably from one of the side rooms. Abby thanked him and gratefully toweled dry her dripping hair. Stephen wrapped her in the blanket after taking off her soaked jacket, her teeth resuming their chattering even as she finished drying off the worst of the wet.

The OIC approached with a handful of paperwork, one of which was the brochure with the map of the maze inside.

"If you could indicate on here where you last saw the creature, and the position of the anomaly?"

Abby pointed out the center of the maze with it's depiction of the Stag Stones circle, then passed it over to Stephen who indicated their route into and out of the maze, and where they had been when the housekeeper screamed. The soldier thanked them and went back to his post, pulling out a radio and speaking into it, relaying all the information they had to go on.

"I still don't know how you managed to get us out of there so quickly. I was lost after the first turn."

Stephen turned to Abby and shrugged. "I don't know either. Something switched on," he tapped his temple, "up here, and I just knew what to look for to lead us back."

"Well I don't care what it was...we'd still be stuck in there without you finding the way out."

Abby snuggled into his side, Stephen wrapping her in his arms outside the blanket, his head coming to rest on the crown of her head.

"I guess we were just lucky," he kissed her head and closed his eyes, glad that they now had an armed escort more than capable of dealing with any number of ugly giant lizards.

The eerie quiet lasted for almost an hour, then a loud clattering noise from outside made them all turn and face the double wooden front door. The soldiers raised their weapons, training their sights on the entrance, the OIC waving to Stephen and Abby to stand in the lee of the sweeping staircase, behind the line of armed men.

The rumbling clatter continued unabated, the OIC signaling to his men to stand down before approaching the door and opening it. A blast of wind blew the door wide and a steady stream of black clad armed soldiers poured into the entrance way, two civilians at their center.

Abby recognized her friend and team leader and threw off the blanket, pushing past the soldiers to greet them. Stephen remained where he was, watching Abigail being warmly hugged by the older man, then by the younger. He couldn't explain why he hung back, but seeing Abby reacting with long familiarity with these men made a spurt of jealousy spike in his chest. He suspected the younger was the Connor she'd been talking to, the older man the Professor Cutter mentioned by her and the soldiers. Keeping in the shadows, he watched them confer, heads together, the younger man pulling out a laptop and setting it up on an antique desk before searching for a power outlet to plug it in to the mains.

The addition of more soldiers made the entrance hall appear to shrink with the influx of people, the OIC giving his report to the Captain, who in turn directed his men to gear up with torches and extra ammunition before deploying outside to track the dinosaur still on the loose in the grounds. Left to his own devices, Stephen walked slowly around the perimeter of the hall, always keeping Abby in his line of sight, but working his way towards the front door which still stood open, revealing the night drawing in outside. He could see spotlights highlighting the ugly fountain sitting like a white pile of rubble in the circular turning space, the carpark just beyond that. Blocking his view was a large military helicopter, squatting like some giant insect on the driveway, several soldiers still unloading gear from its rear, drop down loading ramp.

It all appeared deceptively quiet beyond the confines of the house, but he wasn't fooled. Out there was a dangerous predator who had already killed once, and would do so again if given the opportunity. He glanced back to where Abby was still in an animated conversation with her work mates, his expression softening as he watched her punctuate her description of events with quick hand movements. He hoped she wouldn't be asked to do any more than she'd already done. He wanted to get her back to the hotel for a scalding hot shower followed by some equally hot sex in celebration of surviving one hell of a day.

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Cutter was listening to Abby's description of what she'd seen, her face animated as she tried to convey the experience and everything she could remember. He was fascinated at the inference that the thunder storm with its static discharge could have had something to do with its formation. He was also intrigued to see the photocopy of the woodcut showing that the maze had been visited before by anomalies over the years. He wasn't remotely surprised given all he knew of his ex wife, to find out she might have been a visitor to the place, or at the time it was indicated. Helen was an enigma, her complicity in Stephen's sacrifice ensuring that he had no lingering affection for her, and would not hesitate to either shoot her or hand her over the Lester and his bully boys if he ran into her again.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw the man that Connor had said witnessed the anomaly with Abby. The man was tall and lanky, walking with an almost imperceptible limp as he circled the edge of the entrance hall making his way to the double doors. Cutter tilted his head, listening to what Abby was saying, but at the same time noting that the man on the other side of the room was in need of a haircut, sporting a set of whiskers as impressive as they were out of step with current fashion. Nick couldn't see the man's features properly, but there was something about the way he moved that had the paleontologist racking his brains to remember if he'd met him before.

Abby was coming to the end of her report, her glances to check on the other man's whereabouts becoming noticeable for their regularity.

"Who's your friend?" Cutter asked when she finally paused to draw breath. Unbelievably, Abby blushed a bright scarlet, Connor and Cutter exchanging an amused glance at her reaction.

"He's the reason I'm standing here alive and uneaten. He managed to get us out of the maze, even after I lost the map. I don't know how he did it, but he did."

"A regular hero," Cutter said, smiling to take the edge off the comment. "But who is he?"

"His name is Steve...he isn't in work at the moment...he was recently in an accident that left him heavily scarred."

"A wounded hero...an irresistible combination," Cutter teased, his eye crinkling when Abby flared up to defend her new friend. "Hey, easy...I was only joking."

"He's also suffering from amnesia, a side effect of his accident so I can't tell you where he comes from, or where he grew up, so don't ask."

"Unemployed, scarred and suffering from memory loss." Connor shook his head and stifled a snort. "How do you manage to find them, Abby?"

Before Cutter could reprimand the younger man, Abby rounded on her former flatmate and hissed at him. "He's also fantastic in bed and hung like a..." Abby clapped her hands over her mouth, embarrassed to have been provoked into such a childish tit-for-tat with Connor. Blushing a fiery red, she threw an apology over her shoulder to Cutter and hurried away to join the man beside the door.

Cutter stood with his eyebrows almost climbing into his hairline, while Connor grinned sheepishly up at the Professor, his face rather pink.

"Well that told you!" Nick muttered, folding his arms over his chest as he watched Abby and her lover wrap each other in a close embrace, the man kissing her lovingly on the forehead before folding her against his chest. There was still something about the man that tugged at Nick's memory, but it wouldn't come clear, so he dismissed it and turned back to talk to Connor.

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"I wish I could get you away from here, but I suppose now you're going to say you have to stay here until they catch the creature, or drive it back through that anomaly thing."

Abby sighed, wishing that she could ask him to whisk her away back to the hotel and leave all the clean up to Cutter and Connor, but this was her job, and they still needed her.

"Sorry Steve...a hot shower would be heaven right now, but I have to stay."

"Yeah...figured you'd say that." He nuzzled the side of her head, his eyes drawn to the two men still poring over the lap top. "What did your boss say?"

"Nothing much. I had to tell him all I'd seen, so they can co-ordinate the capture of the creature, as well as monitor the anomaly until it disappears again."

"What are they Abby? Why do they appear?"

"What they are are portals into the past, why they appear we haven't figured out yet. I really shouldn't be telling you even that much. Jenny will have a fit when she finally gets here to put a spin on the situation and confound the local press."

"Jenny?"

"She's our public relations trouble shooter, if you like. She makes sure there's never any pictures or footage of the creatures and checks there's no fallout from damage caused, or injuries."

"Quite a job description."

"Yeah. Wouldn't have her job for the world."

"And you. What is your job description?"

Abby raised her head and grinned up into his face. "Lizard girl. Just as I told you the first time you asked me."

"Lizard girl huh? How about this for a job description," he paused as if thinking, squinting for effect. "the most beautiful damn zoologist in tight leggings I've ever seen and the sexiest black haired, blue eyed reptile expert on the planet."

"You missed out the most intelligent."

"But that would make you perfect..." he kissed her lightly. "and I'd prefer the love of my life had a few flaws to match my own."

"Oh I have flaws...positively legions of them," she sighed and leant her head against his chest. "And anyway, who said you had flaws...I haven't noticed any!"

"Flatterer...you're biased."

"Your point being?"

They were so caught up in their playful banter they didn't notice that Nick had approached and been standing for some time waiting for them to notice them. His cough made them both turn their heads, surprised to see him so close. Abby pulled out of Stephen's embrace but kept her fingers laced with one of his hands.

"Professor...we...er...didn't hear you."

"No. You were rather engrossed. Nick Cutter...pleased to meet you." Nick held out his hand, Stephen hesitating only a second before extending his to shake the other mans. Nick glanced down and saw the threads of white scar tissue marring the flesh of the fingers and hand. Looking up he encountered a pair of blue eyes, thickly rimmed with dark lashes, so achingly familiar he felt the flash of recognition like a blow to the solar plexus.

"What the bloody hell is this?" Nick shouted.

Stephen's smile faltered as the professor stopped shaking his hand and just stood there, the grip on his fingers becoming almost punishing. Cutter was staring at Stephen as if he'd seen a ghost, what color he had in his face, rapidly draining to turn a pasty grey. Abby was looking at her boss with round eyes, darting a glance at her lover who seemed more perplexed than either of them.

Cutter seemed to rally, releasing his death grip on Stephen's hand as if burnt, that same hand now being rubbed on his jacket as if contaminated.

"Is this some sort of sick joke?" Nick took a step back, his eyes wide and distressed as he looked the man before him up and down, noting the familiar features hidden by the trimmed beard, the longer hair masking jawline and brow, but unable to disguise the eyes that stared back at him in bewilderment.

"Nick?" Abby's shaky query snapped Nick out of his trance, the older man launching himself at Stephen and wrapping him in a rib crushing bear hug to the amazement of Abby, Connor and Stephen himself.

Stephen staggered with Cutter's added weight, finding himself carried backwards to hit the door frame, hitting it hard. He raised his hand to pat the man's shoulder, not sure what to do for the best. He could see Abby looking shocked at Nick's reaction, not understanding it at all. Connor had also risen from his chair watching Cutter's strange behavior with an open mouth.

Stephen had a sudden flash of an image pass quickly in his minds eye, of a man with distressed blue eye staring back at him through a thick glass window, like a porthole. The scene passed too quickly for him to get a feel of the context, but somehow, unbelievable, this man appeared to be him.

"Um...Cutter...Professor...what's going on?" Connor had come to stand beside Abby, the pair of them nonplussed as to why the older man was behaving so strangely.

Cutter was muttering into Stephens jacket, his hands clutching the younger man in convulsive spasms, as if trying to absorb him into his skin. "You didn't die...oh God, you didn't die...but I saw you...I saw you torn apart...Stephen...Stephen..."

Hearing the voice right near his ear rang bells of recognition in Stephen's brain. He knew the voice, had heard it before, but still couldn't remember enough for it to mean much.

"You know me...don't you?" Stephens slightly hoarse voice made Nick pull back and peer more closely into his dead friends face. Lifting a shaking hand, Nick brushed the hair off Stephen's brow, revealing more of the tell-tale scars marring his formerly regular features.

"Yes...I know you. I don't know what miracle returned you to us, but I'm not about to mess with it. You're alive when we thought you dead and buried. Oh God Stephen, you have no idea how much I've missed you."

Stephen saw tears in the other man's eyes, the depth of Nick Cutter's reaction telling him more than he could possibly remember about his forgotten friend. He glanced up and met Abby's shocked gaze, her eyes impossibly wide, Connor similarly struck, the younger man having a struggle to equate what he saw before him with the man they apparently used to know.

Abby had no such difficulty. Like pennies falling into slots, she started to piece together the little things that had seemed so familiar to her, but she'd not recognized in the stranger she thought she was meeting for the first time. She saw from the truth in his eye that he didn't have a clue that they all knew him as someone else, his confusion and emotions on display for anyone to decipher, so unlike his former self.

It was one shock too many for her, her eyelids fluttering before closing completely, her legs giving out as she fainted dead away.

She never felt Stephen's arms catch her or the chill of the marble when she collapsed insensible on the hard floor.

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to be continued...


	9. The Same But Different

9/03/08

Title: Forgotten

Chapter: 9 – The Same but Different

Author: Squeezynz

Setting: post S2Ep7

Paring: Stabby all the way.

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"Why won't you at least speak to the poor guy?" Connor asked, a definite whine creeping into his voice.

"I don't expect you to understand...I just...can't."

They were both in her hotel room, twenty four hours after the events at Ashley Court. For Abby it had all passed in a blur, her faint not lasting more than a few minutes, but enough to have her airlifted by helicopter away from the area and returned to the Craig Manor hotel where the local doctor, the same that had treated Steve...no, not Steve anymore, Stephen, fussed over her until she almost screamed for him to leave her alone. She had the headache to end all headaches and wanted nothing more than to bury herself under the covers of her bed and never come out again.

When she'd surfaced the next morning the headache was still there, plus a dozen or so messages on her phone. She did her best to ignore both, and succeeded until Connor arrived to upset her day. Now he was laying with his hands behind his head on her bed, and she was sitting on the padded window seat staring out at the majestic scenery which might as well have been a brick wall.

She kept mentally berating herself for being a blind fool, for not realizing, for not seeing him for who he was.

"Stupid idiot," she muttered to herself, drawing her knees up and hugging them close to her chest.

"Did you say something?" Connor called out. "You'll have to speak up if you want me to give you an answer."

"It was nothing Con...just talking to myself. Why don't you go down and see about some dinner for yourself."

"What about you?"

"I'm not hungry."

"Sure you won't think about it?" Connor pushed, hoping for a reaction, anything to pull her out of her funk.

"No. Go...go eat. I'll be fine here."

Swinging his legs off the bed, Connor stood up and stretched. "If there's anything I think you'll like, I'll get them to put it on a plate for you and send it up. Okay?"

"Sure. Whatever you like."

She remained staring out at the lake, hearing the door shut behind him, and let out a sigh.

"You stupid bloody fool. Only an idiot falls in love with the same guy twice, and doesn't recognize him the second time around." Abby berated herself, tears welling and spilling over, her misery complete. She couldn't really understand why she felt so depressed but supposed it had something to do with the shock and the exhausting day she'd had, being chased by a creature and finding out your lover was a man back from the dead.

In direct contrast to the previous couple of days, it hadn't rained a drop since the night before, the sun drying up all the puddles and now setting in glorious Technicolor over the Pikes.

She expected to get a visit from Cutter as soon as the situation at Penrith was under control. She suspected that one of the messages piling up on her phone would soon confirm the fact, but she couldn't raise the interest to find out what was happening in North Cumbria.

A knock sounded at the door and she called out for the room service waiter to enter.

"Just put it on the bed, thank you." Abby ordered the unseen staff member, not bothering to turn round and actually see who had entered the room. She heard the door snick shut and thought herself alone, but a voice jerked her out of her stupor and brought her spinning around.

"How long are you going to make me wait?"

Abby stared at Stephen in shock for a second, then her face flushed bright red and she jumped to her feet. Anger replaced her lethargy when she flared up at him.

"I told Connor I didn't want to speak to you, and I certainly don't want to see you."

"Too bad Abigail...because I need to speak to you and badly wanted to see you." He sounded as angry as she felt, her desire to throw herself into his arms warring with her equally strong desire to land him a facer and lay him out.

"What part of 'I don't want to speak to you' did you have difficulty understanding?"

"Spit and fight all you want, I'm not leaving this room until we sort this out."

"Fine. You stay, I'll be going." She skirted where he stood and headed for the door. Before she could turn the handle his hand was there holding the door shut. She rattled the door handle but it wouldn't budge with his weight against it.

"Please move your hand."

"Not until you sit down and talk to me. Abigail..."

"My name is Abby...Abby, not Abigail...don't call me that."

"Okay...Abby, it's all the same to me." He reached out to touch her but she flinched away, stepping back to put some space between them.

"Don't...just don't." She held up her hands as if to fend him off, her fragile grip on her tumultuous emotions starting to slip. "I can't believe this is happening like this. How is this possible?"

"I don't know...really, I don't."

"You must have known...I can't believe you didn't know." She railed at him, bright spots of color on each cheek, her eyes welling up again.

"I didn't Abby...believe me, I hadn't any idea that I'd known you before. I'm not making this up."

"Oh God...I'm such an idiot." Holding her arms up in front of her face, she stood in the middle of the room, her shoulders shaking.

Unable to bear not touching her any longer, Stephen covered the short space between them and wrapped himself around her, ignoring her feeble struggles and simply holding on until she went limp against him.

"Hush sweetheart, I never meant to hurt you...please, give me a chance...give us a chance.."

Abby was crying in earnest now, her face buried against his shirt, her body soft and pliant and no longer fighting him.

"Shhhh sweet Abigail...don't take on so." He loosened his hold, but didn't let her go, his arm hooking her under her legs and hoisting her up into his arms to carry her over to the bed. There he placed her against the pillows, before laying down beside her, his shoes toed off to hit the carpet with a soft thump. He gathered her back into his arms, laying her head on his shoulder and smoothing her hair with his hand.

"I wonder which of the two of us is more the fool here. Maybe if would have been better if I hadn't been resurrected..."

"NO!" stung out of her weeping, Abby rose up on her elbow and glared down at him. "Don't ever say that. I don't know how it happened, or why it worked out the way it did, but I would never wish you dead...never."

"Then tell me what I can do...how are we going to deal with this." He gently pulled her back down, resuming his smoothing of her hair, his eyes troubled. "I don't know who the man is that you knew before. This Stephen Hart that you all worked with isn't me. I have no memory of my time spent with you, no idea what my purpose or job was, not even what knowledge I had."

"That's not your fault..." Abby interrupted from the region of his collar bone.

"Fault or not...I'm not that man."

"I know."

"Do you? Look at me Abigail...really look at me." He waited for her to once more lift her head, her skin blotchy from the crying, her eyes red-rimmed and smudged. "Maybe there is something of the man you used to know, but only superficially." He gestured to the lines on his hands, holding them up before her face. "You know how the rest of me looks," he swept the hair off his forehead revealing the deep scar marring the skin there. "I saw a picture of what I looked like then...Connor showed me."

"He shouldn't have done that..." Abby cried, her lips trembling.

"I asked him too. Nick agreed, and Connor brought up a photo of us all, taken at some pub night. You're hair was a white as snow."

Abby fingered her longer, darker tresses and looked embarrassed. "I was going through a phrase."

"No you weren't. That was who you were."

"People change. I changed, its why I asked to come up here..."

"You were running away." He raised an eyebrow and she nodded at the truth of what he said.

"I was. It had all gone so horribly wrong. You'd died, Nick was in so much pain." She looked up. "He saw you die."

"I know...he told me."

"And Connor...oh God, Connor...I couldn't help him at all. It was like the heart had been cut out of all of us. I wasn't coping at all well."

"I was running away as well."

She looked up at him, her fingers pleating his shirt front. "You were?"

"I thought if I kept moving, didn't stop too long in any one place, I wouldn't have time to find out if anyone remembered me, if I remembered them. I figured that if I kept moving fast enough, and far enough whatever I didn't remember would become irrelevant and I could maybe start fresh somewhere."

He lifted the corner of his mouth in a crooked smile. "Daft, but it's what brought me here...to you."

"I'm so confused." Abby buried her face against him, her words muffled against his chest. "I know from a logical standpoint that you are physically the same man, that you are Stephen...but I look at you and I don't see him...I see you. Does that make any sense?"

"As much sense as fate smiling down and giving us a second chance by placing me in your path."

He slowly sat up until they were both kneeling on the bed covers.

"I love you Abigail...or Abby or whatever you want to be called. I. Love.You. I'm pretty damn sure I've never felt this way about anyone in my life, because if I had, I surely would never have let her go...and I don't want to let you go, not while I draw breath."

"Oh God.." Abby gasped, "I don't want you to let go...I've been so miserable thinking that I would have to leave here...leave you and go back to my life without you."

"No way Abby...I won't let you. I can't let you. If you leave here, I'll follow you...I can't give you up – not now, not ever."

Torn between wanting to scream at the sheer tension of the moment and do something completely crazy, Abby chose the latter, launching herself at Stephen, her hands urgently holding his head while her mouth fastened on his as if he was her sole source of oxygen. For a few moments they battled for dominance, then Stephen wrapped his arms about her body and simply rolled her onto the middle of the bed, never once breaking contact, his own hands soon busy mapping her curves through her clothes. At length he framed her face with his hands and urgently kissed the tears from her eyes, all the time murmuring tender words, repeating his vows to her over and over so she was left in no doubt how he felt.

Abby wanted to cry and laugh at the same time, her mouth soon swollen from kissing, her body wrapped around him like a second skin. They fought now to be the first to get naked, their clothes ending up thrown to the four corners of the hotel room, the bed a bear pit where they wrestled to get as close as possible, the inevitable joining of their bodies wringing moans of satisfaction for a pleasure long denied but now fulfilled.

He powered into her, her hands and mouth urging him on, the muscles in his back cording as he gave her everything he had, the sounds coming from her driving him to greater heights, her shuddering release tipping him over the edge, his own climax shaking the bed with it's force.

The aftermath found them gasping to draw breath, heated kisses against sweaty flesh, fingers and hands stroking to sooth rather than excite.

"I think...we ought to...agree...to disagree...at least...once a...week." Stephen panted, tossing his head to get his fringe out of his eyes.

Abby laughed weakly, the movement threatening his sanity as he felt her squeeze him mercilessly.

"I'm not sure...I can survive...what we just did...once a week."

Dipping his head so it rested on the covers, Stephen listened to his heart thunder in his chest.

"You could...be right...maybe every...two weeks then."

"God you're impossible..."

"No...I just can't get enough of you...that makes me insatiable." He lifted his head and grinned down at her, her kiss swollen lips tempting him in for a taste, "and you are...irresistible"

"Good grief...there's so much...bull in here, it's...worse than a...farmyard." Abby started to giggle at her own joke, her hand coming up to cover her eyes as she shook and quaked underneath him, with the inevitable consequence that he slipped from her body, Abby instantly missing the feeling of him inside her.

"Just give me a minute or two love..." Stephen begged, rolling to the side and taking her with him, the cover pulled over them both despite them laying diagonally across the bed.

"You know," Abby observed. "One of these days we might just use this poor bed in a conventional manner, instead of leaving it looking like an all in wrestling match took place here."

"Nah...then housekeeping would have nothing to gossip about." He smiled up at her, his eyes as clear and unclouded as the waters of the lake.

The door chose that moment to fly open, revealing Connor backing into the room holding a huge tray covered in dishes and what looked like a pot of tea. Both Abby and Stephen propped themselves up on their elbows to watch Connor juggled the door and the tray before turning around to face the room.

"Hey Abby...I brought you..." he caught sight of the bed and his mouth dropped open. "Shit."

Abby sat up further, the cover clutched firmly to her chest. "Um...yeah...thanks Connor...um."

"Shit..shit...shit..." Connor's eyes darted around the room looking for somewhere to set down the tray so he could make a quick exit. Finding nothing that didn't have some article of clothing flung over it, he settled on putting the tray on the floor, his hands coming up in front of him in a placating gesture as he started to back out of the room.

"I'm really sorry...really really sorry...I'll go now...um...I'll call you...bye!" The door slammed shut before either of the occupants of the bed could do more than raise an eyebrow and exchange an amused glance.

"Poor Connor." Stephen shook his head, unable to stop smiling.

"I think we gave him a heart attack!" Abby giggled, the giggles turning into a full out laugh, until she fell back on the bed, unable to stop.

Later, they sat sharing the contents of the tray, the room lit only by the bedside lamps.

"You do know you won't be able to win every argument with sex, don't you?"

"So my plan to solve the worlds problems by spending every day in bed with you has a flaw?"

Abby smiled and shook her head. "A rather large flaw."

"Damn."

Abby sipped her tea, her brow creasing in thought. Stephen noticed and wondered what was making her frown.

"Penny for them?"

"Oh...I was thinking...about the anomaly, the creature that came through...that stuff."

"I can see I'm going to have to work harder to take your mind of your work."

"We were lucky this time...only one came through."

"Are they sure?"

"Cutter said so, and Captain Richards has pretty much sealed off the area. Jenny is fielding the press, and Lester is dealing with the family of the housekeeper."

"Lester...I caught up with him earlier today."

"What did he have to say?"

"Not a lot. The usual duck and spin, as only a government official can achieve."

"No really, what did he say?"

"I believe he summed it up in one word. 'Typical'"

Abby twisted her head to look at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You know the man better than I do...you tell me."

"I still can't believe he never said anything...he let us all believe that you had died...we had a...a...funeral, everything." She swallowed hard to hold back the feelings that period in their lives always brought back. "There's a grave..."

"Yeah...Connor mentioned something about that."

"Stephen...about Connor...you need to talk to him. I know you don't know him, at least not as you did then, but there's stuff between you...you and him. He was so eaten up over your death..."

"If you think it'll do any good. He seems a nice enough guy...I'm surprised you didn't take up with him."

"We were friends for a long time...at one point more than friends...but it didn't...we didn't...God this is difficult." She drew in a shuddering breath, some of the pain of the past months seeping back into her. "He had a really hard time dealing with it all. You and he were like...brothers, or something. Good mates at the very least. I think he was a little in awe of you."

"Abby come on...what sort of pedestal did you all put me on?"

"It wasn't...I mean...you were so different...you were so confident, so self assured, we were all a little in awe of you. You could handle any weapon imaginable, you didn't hesitate to take the lead, you were so good at what you did, but you also held so much of yourself back. From the start you were a puzzle, glamorous but self effacing, competent but not egotistical, caring of everyones welfare but you never let anyone get close...except Nick."

"I sound like a mess. I'm almost glad I died, if that was the way it was."

"No...no it wasn't a bad way to be, it was just...I'm probably putting this badly. I didn't mean that you were wrong to be the way you were, it was just so different to what we knew, Connor and I. We were the kids, the youngsters, tagging along with the professionals...I mean Professor Cutter was this well respected academic and you were his right hand man...you were a team who'd been together for so long and worked so well, always looking out and protecting each other's backs."

Abby set her cup back on the tray, her mind full of images from the past, of near misses and close shaves, and through it all Stephen as a solid, dependable presence, making sure no-one was left behind, sure and certain of his own abilities, but always there to pick up if someone faltered.

"Connor once told me you were the closest thing to a brother he'd ever had. You meant a great deal to him, your death hit him very hard." She lifted a finger to wipe away a single tear. "It hit all of us very hard. Nick was a mess...we still had to go to work, sort out the anomalies...worry about where Helen had gone...mourn you...it was chaotic. I sometimes look back and wonder how we all made it though those first few days."

"I'm sorry you ever had to."

"It helped clarify a great deal of things for me...for all of us. What happened to you could have happened to any one of us. Because of what happened, we got more on call help from the special forces, more money for equipment, more everything."

"That's good...isn't it?"

"Yeah...but despite all the money, all the extra resources, we couldn't have the one thing we needed above all else." Abby turned her head to meet his gaze. " We couldn't replace you." She turned away to stare sightlessly across the room. "We had only to ask and we would be granted anything we wanted...anyone we wanted...but we only wanted you back. Connor and Nick have been working like demons to develop a better system, to not only detect the anomalies but to predict them and work out what causes them to appear in the first place. I think...I believe that Nick was hoping to find a way to put right what his wife had done and find a way to bring you back."

"No...that's crazy...Abby that's madness."

"I know...and I think he knew that too. We just had to have something to cling to, something to make sense of what we were doing. Helen is the key to it all, which is what I was doing up here. We need to find out all we can about her meddling in time, as well as how she is able to use the anomalies to travel back and forth with impunity."

"That's quite some agenda you're all working towards."

Abby gave a small chuckle. "Lester was not pleased when Nick laid the proposal out to him."

"Why? Isn't that what you are all working towards anyway?"

"He agreed with a great deal, as you say, it's what we here for...but when Nick proposed to find a way to bring you back Lester hit the roof."

Stephen ran a hand through his hair, pushing his fringe off his forehead. "Not surprising when he knew I was already back."

"Which is why he fought against any suggestion of research pointing towards changing anything."

"Doesn't explain why he decided to cut me loose without telling me about all this."

"Maybe he thought your memory would come back in time. Maybe he thought he'd give you a choice...a second chance...maybe even a way out of being a part of it all. You'd already sacrificed you life to the project...you couldn't be expected to just get over it and go on as before."

"And with my memory loss the perfect solution presented itself."

"Exactly."

"Still doesn't excuse him doctoring my history and keeping all this secret."

"I'm glad he did." Abby stated emphatically. Stephen looked at her in surprise.

"You are?"

"If you'd just come back...albeit with your memory gone, we would've just gone on as before." She paused and drew in a sharp breath. "Has Nick spoken to you about his wife...Helen?"

"Nope. But her name keeps coming up so I'm assuming she's at the crux of what's going on."

"Then I won't say anymore. Nick will have to be the one to fill in the details of that blank in for you."

"Hey, look, if it's so important...tell me now!"

"No." Abby set her mouth mutinously and crossed her arms over her chest.

Stephen saw the storm brewing and decided to let it rest.

"Maybe I'd be better to leave some things blank." Heaping the empty plates and cups on the tray, he swung his legs off the bed and picked it up, carrying it over to the door before placing it on the floor. When he turned around he saw Abby sitting very upright on the bed, her eyes firmly fixed on his body, her stare wandering up and down and missing nothing. Noting that she seemed completely distracted, he put his hands on his hips and canted his head to the side.

"Abby?"

"Huh? What?"

Walking slowly back to the bed, he finally caught her eye and watched in delight as she blushed from the top of her head to well below the edge of the sheet covering her breasts.

"Just for that...I think it's time for some after dinner dessert." Tugging the sheet out of her fingers before she could grab a hold, he knelt on the bed and walked his way up and over her, Abby laying back and watching his advance through heavy lidded eyes. Dipping his head, Stephen pressed a kiss to her softly rounded belly before pressing kisses to her indented belly button. Kissing his way up her ribs he took time lavishing attention on each of her breasts, sucking their hard points into his mouth while Abby arched to give him more. At length he nibbled all the way up her neck, leaving love bites on the tightly stretched tendons when she turned he head to prolong the teasing.

"Have I told you how much I love your skin?" He soothed his bites with tender kisses, working his way along her jawline to her lips, taking them hungrily, his tongue darting between them to claim all before him.

Abby gave herself up to him, rode the wave of his lovemaking, her body wanting nothing more than to meld them together, her legs wrapping around his hips, her heels urging him to go deeper, harder, faster. Stephen ignored her frantic writhing and took his time, his movements slow and teasing until Abby begged him to end the torment, his hips working to bring them both to completion.

Afterwards they lay heart to hammering heart, legs entwined, lips planting moist kisses on satiny skin as they floated from the lofty heights of passion to the more earthly planes of tangled sheets and laboring lungs.

"I wish we could stay here forever," Abby murmured later, already half asleep, her lips curving into a smile.

"I don't think the hotel allows permanent residents," Stephen growled, his mouth resting on one of her rounded shoulders, his head heavy against the pillows. "Guess we'll have to make a decision – your place or mine."

"I've never seen your place...you have a place?"

"I do...or at least Lester organized a place...not sure now how close, if at all, it is to where you and the others are."

"You could always move in with me?"

"And there I was thinking I was moving too fast..." Stephen raised his head a little. "Hey."

"What?" Abby asked, her words slurred, on the cusp of sleep.

"How big is your bed?"

Abby giggled, Stephen joining her with a rumbling laugh that set them quaking together.

"We might have to buy a bigger bed..." Abby whispered, almost asleep.

"Mmmm...I like this bed. Think they'll let us take it with us?"

"No."

Wrapping his arm about her waist, Stephen settled himself to sleep, Abby warm and soft in his arms.

He'd have to remember to thank Nick in the morning for persuading him not to wait any longer for Abby to call him.

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to be continued...


	10. Relearning the Ropes

11/03/08

Title: Forgotten

Chapter: 10 – Relearning the Ropes

Author: Squeezynz

Setting: Post S2Ep7

Pairing: Stabby all the way.

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Abby ran up the metal stairway leading to her loft apartment and felt a new spring in her step. Never mind that she was covered from head to toe in some revolting primordial ooze from somewhere in the Devonian, three hundred and fifty million years in the past. At least no one had been injured, if you didn't include the biting insects, and there had been nothing bigger than a large rat-like reptile to provide target practice for the special forces. The return of a number of large invertebrates had gone smoothly for once, with no threat to life or limb.

In point of fact she would almost have called the entire trip boring, if not for ending up sinking into a stinking bog and having to be hauled out by a hysterical Connor, who simply didn't know when to stop laughing. Knowing that she had a deadline, she'd foregone using the ARC to clean up and just asked to dropped off home.

She skidded across the smooth floor and glanced at the wall clock. "Oh shit...damn, damn..."

She didn't bother taking anything off, just slammed into the bathroom and got the water running in the shower. If she was lucky, he'd be caught in traffic and delayed, if not...well, they could always order in.

She didn't hear the key turn in her front door, or the stealthy tread of her visitor as he made his way up the spiral staircase to the first floor, the bag at his side bumping against his knees. Reaching the top he paused and looked around, dumping one of the bags on the floor. The other, slung over his shoulder, joined its mate a minute later.

Stephen took a moment to draw in a deep breath. This was where Abby lived, and had lived for some time. She'd shared this space with Connor until recently, and now she was going to share it with him. He noted the glass cages displayed near the center of the room, far enough from the natural light so the occupants wouldn't cook. A step stool nearby stood testament that the owner of the cages needed a little help tending to her reptilian charges, the thought of Abby up a ladder making him smile. Something chirruped and he craned to see past the wall of glass tanks, spotting something very green perched up high on a beam.

"Rex?" He hadn't yet met the reptile, but he'd been suitable impressed with the creatures personality as glowingly described by Abby. He was less sanguine about the collection of snakes she took care of, but he'd get used to them given time. He could hear a shower running and sauntered over, knocking lightly on the bathroom door.

"Abby?" He query got no response so he walked back into the main living space and climbed the couple of steps up to where a comfortable looking couch sat facing the room. Nothing in the room followed any particular style of pattern or taste that he could discern, but somehow it all worked. The mellow brickwork, wooden beams and iron work created a solid background to an eclectic collection of charmingly oddball bits of furniture and personal mementos.

Settling on the couch, he leant back, crossed his legs at the knee, and prepared to wait.

To give Abby credit she didn't linger long in the shower, her clothes unceremoniously dumped in the bath after being rinsed off in the shower. Steam billowed out of the bathroom when she padded out, swathed in her bathrobe, her hair in a turban.

She padded into the kitchen, completely missing the bags sitting on the floor at the top of the stairs. Humming to herself, she put the kettle on and checked the fridge for supplies. She noticed she was nearly out of bread and she'd need to do some shopping in a day or so. She unbent from inspecting the fridge and turned, almost screaming in fright to see someone standing leaning against the kitchen door frame.

Her fright only lasted a second before she rounded the table and flew into his arms.

"You're here!" She flung her arms about his neck and felt him lift her off the ground, her towel falling off her hair to land on the floor in a damp heap.

"And you smell wonderful," Stephen sniffed appreciatively in the region of her ear, making her hunch her shoulders.

"That tickles!" Tilting her face she offered her lips for his attention, finding herself almost devoured in his eager acceptance of her tempting offer.

At length he put her back on her feet but kept an arm about her waist. "Rough day?"

"You don't know the half of it." She leant against him for a second then pulled away. While Stephen seated himself at the kitchen table, she got out some mugs and made coffee.

"How did it go today?" Abby asked, passing him one of the steaming mugs and sitting opposite him.

"I seem to have a very good eye, according to the officer at the rifle range."

"How long before you get certified?"

"Actually...I already am." Stephen grinned at her over the rim of his mug. "I don't appear to have lost any of that particular skill at all. Dead on the money each shot." He pulled out his wallet and passed over his new gun license. "We pretty much covered everything from a pistol to a bazooka."

"Wow...remind me never to piss you off!" Abby handed back the license.

"It was an odd sort of experience. I went in there having no recollection of ever firing a gun in my life, and walked out with the officer in charge inviting me back to shoot with him anytime."

"So...nothing came back while you were there?"

Stephen shook his head. "Same as always...not a thing. Just... as soon as I felt the grip in my hand, I knew what to do."

"Like your tracking skills."

"Yeah. Freaky, huh."

"So what's next?" Abby noticed that despite his obvious satisfaction at gaining his gun qualification, a line had formed between his eyes. "Aren't you happy about finding out?"

"I just...I almost feel..." he paused, reaching up to rub at his forehead. "I almost feel as he is trying to become me." Feeling restless, Stephen got to his feet and went to put his mug in the sink. Abby rose as well and stood beside him.

"What's wrong?"

He turned his head to look at her, his gaze roving over her face like a caress.

"This is going to sound totally whacked...but I feel as if the Stephen Hart you knew is trying to muscle in on the Stephen Hart I am now. And I'm not sure I like it."

Abby instantly put her arms around him and hugged him close. "You said yourself the psychologist mentioned something like this might happen. That memories of your past would start to surface."

"Yeah...he did. I'm just not sure I'm ready to let go of what I am now, for what I was then."

They stayed like that, locked together for several long minutes, then Abby pulled away, her eyes suspiciously moist. Tilting her head back, she gave him a smile.

"Well...I think it's time for the grand tour, and I'm dying to introduce you to Rex."

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His first visit to the ARC was arranged for after hours, when most of the technical staff, other than the night shift, were gone. Nick drove him there, the older man darting glances at him every few seconds until Stephen felt like he was being treated like an unexploded bomb about to go off.

"I'm fine Nick...really."

"I know...I just..."

"Look. If Connor's show and tell on the lap top can't dredge up even the smallest memory, this visit is hardly likely to provoke anything either."

Nick tooled the big Toyota around the curve of the approach to the ARC and pulled up outside. The two men entered using Nick's pass key card, the place appearing half lit with most of the work and office space dark. Looking up to the huge dangling lights and distant roof, Stephen felt nothing at all, no unease or sense of recognition. If he wasn't already reconciled to his situation, in more ways than one, he'd certainly be surprised not to remember the place he'd apparently spent a great deal of his recent years in. Nick had been surprisingly honest in his retelling of recent events, Stephen realizing early on that Nick needed to get a lot of his guilt over his supposed death out of the way before he could attempt to rebuild their friendship. Stephen was happy to let Nick lead the way, both into the ARC and with their relationship. He already felt a great empathy with the older man, and had hopes they would be able to form a good working partnership as time went on. Nick just seemed happy to have him around, despite being, for all intents and purposes a different man from the one Cutter had known.

Lester had been initially against Stephen having anything to do with his old job with Nick and the others, but given his relationship with Abby, and Stephen's own desire to find a purpose for his life, it was decided to at least give the situation a trial.

Nick was leading him across the floor towards a pair of swing doors when a voice hailed them from above. Lester, well aware of what was taking place, leant on the railing outside his office and called down for them both to come up.

Nick didn't look particularly happy with the notion, but simply reversed direction and started up the long ramp to the first floor offices.

"Lester probably wants to grill you about yesterday." Nick murmured as they reached the upper level.

"Not a problem Nick. It was my decision, so there's really nothing to worry about."

"Yeah. Lester has a way of making you worry about it even if you don't have a reason to worry about it...that's Lester."

Stephen laughed quietly, both men sporting half smiles when they entered Lester's glass walled main office.

"Take a seat gentlemen. Drink?" Lester approached a side cabinet and flung open the door. Inside was an impressive array of different brands.

"Whiskey..." said Nick, settling himself into one of the chairs. Lester cocked an eyebrow at Stephen in a silent question.

"Same."

Lester poured a generous amount in each glass then handed them to each man, before pouring one for himself.

"I have to say I'm not fully supportive of this scheme. I think it's a mistake. I did at the start, which is exactly why I put in place what I did."

"You mean you kept is all secret." Nick muttered, taking a sip of the single malt and rolling it around his mouth. "Not only from us but from Stephen as well."

"Yes...well...whatever the ethics of the situation, it seemed the best solution at the time. I assure you, that if it hadn't been for the complete memory loss, you would have been given the choice whether to return to our old life, or start anew."

"How generous of you," Nick sniped sourly, giving Lester a look that the older man chose to ignore, along with the comment.

"We now find ourselves with a delicate situation. I've had the reports from the psychologist, the results from the rifle range, from Captain Richards in regards our physical fitness and combat readiness...which, I might add, was not what I asked him to do. I only wanted his opinion as to your readiness to go into the field, he took it upon himself to test other area's of your knowledge in regards self defense and fitness."

"I enjoyed it," Stephen stated, "I wanted to know what skills I had to add to the group, and to add to my own knowledge of myself. There's a great deal I can improve on, in regards physical fitness, but I can hold my own as it stands."

"Yes...as he reported. Your visit to the rifle range was a waste of time. You certainly impressed the officer there. He remarked that if you ever wanted a job as an instructor he'd welcome your application any time."

Stephen smiled to himself and took a sip of his drink, exchanging a quick glance with Nick who rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath, "show off".

"Quite." Lester added dryly. "It would seem that despite having no memory of this place, your previous history or the people you are going to working with, you still have all the necessary skills that made you so valuable to the team in the first place."

"There's still a chance it will all come back to him...given time," Nick added, downing the last of his drink and holding it out to Lester for a refill.

Lester sniffed but took the glass over to the cabinet and refilled it, his own glass still half full.

"I will need a full medical report including a psych report." He held his hand up when Stephen made to speak. "I know I mentioned the psychologists report, but I'm talking about finding out what will possibly cause a problem out in the field. Any fears, phobia's, hangups...the usual."

"You didn't make us take those tests," Nick interrupted, sitting forward. "Why put Stephen through the mill?"

"Exactly because, for all intents and purposes, he is a new man...the latest addition to your merry band of eccentrics. I would be requesting the same of anyone you'd proposed to include in your inner circle. Do we really want to have another Leek in the place?"

At the mention of the traitorous former Home Office PA Nick sat back heavily in his chair and downed the second whiskey as if it was water, making Lester blink at him in some astonishment. Fortunately Nick had had enough and slammed the tumbler on the desk before getting to his feet.

"If there's nothing else, we're get on our way."

Stephen thought Lester looked like he had a great deal more to say, but instead waved his hand to dismiss them. Downing the last of his own tumbler, Stephen followed Nick out of the office and back down the ramp.

"I really don't mind Nick...in a way I'm as eager to find out about any hidden phobia's myself. I know I'm not particularly keen on snakes, but for Abby's sake, please don't mention that."

"Don't worry...that hasn't changed. After a memorable incident involving an escaped pet python, I think Abby figured you weren't exactly a keen herpetologist."

"I'm guessing that means I'm not fond of snakes?"

Nick laughed and clapped Stephen on the shoulder. "God it's good to have you back."

They proceeded on a tour of the ARC, Nick showing Stephen the labs with their x-rays and strange samples, Stephen fascinated with the creatures on display, asking questions all the time. Nick fell into a familiar teaching routine and patiently explained everything and anything Stephen asked about. By the time they collapsed in the rec room with a coffee, it was past midnight.

"I should be getting back," Stephen yawned behind his hand.

"Abby knows you're with me, she'll be surprised if you get home at all."

"Do you think I'm doing the right thing Nick? Maybe it would be better if I just retired and found some other way of employing my skills."

"As what? The only profession you'd be likely to fall into would be big game hunting which, I might add, was an anathema to you before. Or for you to go through an adult university course and try and relearn what you knew before."

"You're right," Stephen chewed on his lip before speaking again a moment later. "One thing...Lester hasn't said how he's going to explain my miraculous return to the other members of the team here."

"That's Lester's problem, not yours. Seriously though Stephen, if you have any doubts at all about what we're doing here, or what you're likely to be getting into, you can call quits right now and no one would think the worse of you for doing so. Your death..." Nick paused, his hands clasped on his knees as he leant forward. "It was a catalyst for a great many changes around here. We have a better detector, we're better prepared with our resources and weaponry, we have the complete backing and funding of the government, and more special forces boys than we know what to do with." He looked up and met Stephen's eyes. "I don't pretend that there aren't dangers in what we do. You saw how things can go horribly wrong up in Cumbria. A woman lost her life because of a creature that came through an anomaly, and on top of that there is always the threat that Helen could return and get up to her old tricks, and probably a whole slew of new ones."

"Yeah...about this Helen..."

"Look," Nick interrupted, "what happened is in the past. Helen has done her worst to you, and to me and to everyone here. We, now, are working to put an end to her meddling once and for all. It's the reason Abby was doing that research. We now know that the anomaly in Penrith is one of the portals she's been using, probably on a regular basis. We also know that the one in Penrith, like the one in the Forest of Dean, reappears at regular intervals. With further study, we can start to predict when those intervals are about to happen and be ready for the next time she puts a foot in our time."

"In the meantime we detect, investigate, contain and return." Stephen looked up at the ceiling for a moment as if searching his mind for something before returning his gaze to meet Nicks. "Did I miss anything in that list?"

Nick held up his hand to count off the points. "Detect, investigate, contain, return and survive!"

"Ah...trust me to leave off the most important one."

"Come one...time to get going otherwise Lester will find another excuse for ticking us off."

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to be continued...


	11. Back in Harness

13/3/08

Title: Forgotten

Chapter: 11 – Back in Harness

Author: Squeezynz

Setting: Post S2Ep7

Pairing: Stabby all the way

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Lester had held quite definite concerns about Stephen resuming his role at the ARC, not least because of his romantic involvement with Abby Maitland. He would have liked to have argued that the two were likely to be more concerned with each other's welfare and ultimately endanger the group because of it. Instead he was confounded by the professional way the two of them behaved when on the job. It was almost as if Stephen had never left. Abby and Connor had managed to resurrect some of their former closeness, the banter between the two younger members still watched and smiled at with an avuncular view by the two older members, Stephen and Nick finding enough to form a comfortable relationship built on mutual respect for each other's strengths. 

Not once, in those first few call outs to anomalies, could Lester pin any specific action or reaction to the job in hand, that would allow him to point the finger and say that their relationship, outside the ARC, was impinging on their ability to work together.

After the sixth call out, he gave up looking for excuses and just thanked the stars that Stephen had been on hand to use his skills to track and capture the dozen or so Palaeotheres that galloped through an anomaly that appeared in a wooded area near Winchester. Panicked, the Tapir-like creatures broke down a fence leading into a private safari park and caused havoc among the inhabitants, and zoo keepers, before escaping back into the dense woodland, taking several of the park inhabitants with them, as well as a pride of lions who thought their Christmas's had all come at once.

When it was established the creatures were not particularly dangerous, Abby and Stephen were dispatched, along with a sizable backup team, to dart the animals and transport them back to the anomaly. Nick and Connor went along to do a quick exploration of the Eocene Epoch when they'd identified the mammals and the time they belonged to. Keeping it out of the media and coming up with a satisfactory explanation for the staff at the safari park had taken a fair amount of diplomatic tap dancing on Jenny's part. Stephen had more than proved his worth in organizing the team to not only capture and contain the primeval creatures, but also to round up the escaped lions, the entire operation taking several days of intense tracking and darting before every animal was accounted for and no loss of life or limb reported.

Abby and Stephen worked in such perfect synchronicity that it was assumed they'd been together professionally, which of course they had, for far longer than the few months since his return, further cementing Stephen's place back at the ARC. 

During all that time he had no flashbacks or headaches, but when one did finally hit, it chose the worst possible time and place.

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"Have you got a fix on it?" Nick asked, pitching his voice low to avoiding startling Stephen or alerting the giant flightless terror bird, a member of the Phorusrhacid family, of their presence. The creature from the Pliocene epoch had been driven into a thicket, not far from the anomaly site. There was an urgency to get the bird tranquilized and returned before it strayed onto a football field bordering the local comprehensive nearby.

They were back at the forest of Dean, but not at the exact site of the first recorded anomaly. That site was cordoned off with a permanent security team of rotating shifts because of it's regular appearance. This particular rift had appeared nearer to where Stephen had first tracked and taken on a Gorgonopsid in Nick's previous time, a fact not lost on the older man as he crouched beside him.

Of course, Stephen wasn't aware of the connection, only of the prevalence for that area to sprout anomalies like weeds. Seating the rifle firmly against his shoulder he took aim, ignoring the presence of Nick beside him, and just concentrating on the bird trapped in the thicket. It stood almost as tall as a man, it's huge, hatchet shaped hooked beak enough to make anyone cautious, but combined with legs that put an ostrich to shame ending in vicious looking talons, it was a bird to keep well clear of. They were all wearing stab proof vest as a precaution, the bulky attire chafing as he lined up a clear shot. At the precise moment he squeezed the trigger, a shrill scream pierced the quiet of the forest, making him jerk with the result the dart buried itself in the branch beside the birds' head. With a cry that would curdle milk, the bird took off, crashing it's way through the constricting bushes and straight towards Nick and Stephen.

As calmly as he could, Stephen pulled out another dart and loaded the gun, beads of sweat breaking out on his brow as he lined up the shot and found that bird almost on top of them.

Nick crouched frozen beside him, the two men overwhelmed by the speed and agility of the bird as it leapt over every obstacle, it's hideous beak open wide and emitting blood curdling screams.

At the last moment Stephen rose in a fluid motion and brought the gun up to fire, the bird dead in his sights. At that precise moment he had a blinding flashback to a scene of him doing exactly the same but with a ferocious reptile leaping over his head down an escalator, Nick's shout of his name echoed by the Nick in his flashback. Disorientated and dizzy, he automatically squeezed the trigger, the dart hitting home seconds before he was knocked flying and trampled by the enraged terror bird, it's beak hitting him square in the chest before delivering an uppercut that sent his head snapping back and the darkness rushing in. 

Stephen hit the ground face first and unconscious, the bird raking him with it's talons as it ran over him. Nick had thrown himself to the side, but now scrabbled for the gun to reload it. He could see the dart sticking out of the birds neck, but at the moment it didn't seem to be making an appreciable difference.

Nick could hear shouts as the others ran towards their location, the bird hearing them too and letting loose another challenging screech before fixing it's black, merciless eyes on him. Ignoring the insensible figure on the ground, Nick reloaded the gun and did his best to control the shaking of his hands as he raised the stock and took aim. The dart hit the bird in the leg and lodged, the creature stopping a moment to reach down with it's formidable beak and pluck the dart out, before resuming its threatening stalk of the man attacking it.

As Nick watched from his position on one knee, he saw a flurry of darts hit the creature in several places, the bird almost dancing to reach what it thought were biting insects, its beak snapping repeatedly with a sound like rocks banging together. It started to stagger, the combined effect of the darts finally starting to work, the bird letting out one last screech before falling to the ground, not far from where Stephen lay unmoving.

The sudden silence was almost deafening, Nick dropping the gun to the ground before collapsing backwards to sit heavily on the damp leaf litter. Abby and Connor appeared, both carrying dart guns, along with several of the special forces soldiers, all of them breathing hard.

"Cutter?" Connor walked over to Nick and crouched down beside him, seeing the older man's shocked state. Nobody had noticed Stephen, his body hidden by the massive bird, Nick scrabbling to his feet and pushing Connor to one side to reach him. At the same time Abby looked around the clearing and saw a leg extending past the body of the bird.

"Stephen!" Her cry focused everyone's attention on the injured man, one of the special forces calling for a medic and ambulance while Abby and Nick crouched either side of Stephen to check his condition.

"What happened?" Connor asked, standing over them both as they checked for a pulse, the stab proof vest almost ripped to shreds on Stephen's back, his undershirt not fairing any better.

"Oh God...Stephen.." Abby moaned, her fingers stroking Stephen's hair, doing her best to concentrate on that fact he was still breathing, rather than the amount of blood seeping from numerous cuts and soaking his shirt.

"Don't move him sir, wait for the medic," the OIC cautioned, ignoring Abby's stricken look and the frustration on Nick and Connor's faces.

Nick rose to his feet and turned to Connor. "We need to get this bird back to the anomaly as soon as possible. We have no idea how long the tranqs will keep working, so we have to move fast." Nick turned to the OIC, who immediately called for transportation to remove the terror bird back to the anomaly. Between them, a combined effort managed to move the huge bird away from where Stephen lay, Abby still by his side, one of her hands entwined with his, her other hand still stroking his head. A flurry of activity announced the arrive of both the medic and the transport, the two groups setting about their purpose with grim determination.

Abby remained on her knees in the leaf litter, her wide eyes taking in everything the medic did, tears blinding her when they cut away the tac vest to expose the long slashes still bleeding freely and painting his back scarlet. Securing Stephen's neck, they rolled him onto the back board before hoisting him up and carrying him to the waiting ambulance. Abby followed, climbing in the back to sit beside him as the medical team continued to work on him. Nick was outside, having left the transport team for a moment to speak to the medic, their short conversation too quiet for Abby to overhear.

After a bumpy trip out of the forest, they were speeding towards the closest hospital, the medical officer cutting away the remnants of Stephen's clothes to expose the wounds. Abby heard a quickly indrawn breath from the man and followed his gaze down to the scars covering Stephen's exposed flesh.

"What the hell happened to this guy?" the ambulance officer asked, his brow creased in a frown.

"He just got trampled by a terror bird!" Abby answered, ignoring the real question. She had become so used to the white lines criss-crossing his body, she didn't really notice them anymore, being, as they were, just a part of him like his closely cropped beard or blue eyes. The ambulance officer quickly recovered, realizing that his curiosity wasn't about to be satisfied by the black haired girl clutching the patients hand between both of her own.

Their arrival at the local hospital was greeted with a flurry of nurses and doctors, Stephen whisked away down a corridor and behind swinging door, leaving Abby to answer the questions of the receptionist and fill out the paperwork. Sitting in the waiting room, she dashed away the tears threatening to spill over, knowing that she needed to be clear headed to answer any questions posed by the attending doctor. 

Handing over the completed paperwork, she headed off down the corridor they'd taken Stephen, her footsteps drowned out by the bustle of orderlies and patients, nurses and doctors all rushing back and forth in organized chaos.

She spotted the ambulance man and headed to the cubicle he was walking away from. He gave her a thin smile and passed on by, Abby picking up her pace when she heard a shout come from the curtained alcove. 

Stephen was awake.

She was almost knocked down by a nurse, several people inside trying to restrain the man thrashing on the bed. Abby hurried forward to the head of the bed and leant over to make sure he saw her.

"Stephen, shhhh don't fight them...Stephen!"

Her voice seemed to work the miracle, the medical staff all giving her grateful glances when their patient ceased to try and knock their blocks off, instead collapsed back on the blood stained sheets, his head turning so he could see the girl better despite the oxygen mask covering his face.

"Abby...Abby...what the hell...where..." his voice was muffled by the mask, his eyes wide and the pupils almost black. One of the doctors managed to get a drip in one arm, another doing his best to mop up the dried and drying blood masking the wounds. 

"Abby...tell them...I...Abby..." with a sedative pumping into his system, his eyelids started to droop, his words slurring as it took effect.

"Sleep Stephen, you're in hospital...don't worry...I won't leave you..." She smoothed the hair off his forehead, ignoring the men and women working around her, her eyes only for him as he slipped into unconsciousness again, this time to aid his recovering not hinder it. When his head slumped against her arm, she bent down and kissed his tousled head, keeping her cheek pressed there until a nurse tugged at her arm to pull her away.

"Sorry dear, but we need to get these gashes sutured, and then turn him over to look at the back. You can wait out there." Abby found herself steered out of the cubicle, her lover no longer able to fight off the medical team working to save his life.

She was still sitting in the hard plastic chair an hour later when Nick and Connor arrived. She made to rise but Nick waved her back into her chair.

"What's the verdict?"

"I don't entirely know. They've been working on him for an hour or more, stitching up the gashes and cuts."

"God, that bird sure did a number on him. Nothing life threatening?"

"Not that they've told me...blood loss for sure, and he's disorientated...but he recognized me, so that's something, isn't it?" Abby attempted a watery smile, Nick folding her in a hug while Connor went to peer around the curtain at the proceedings.

"Jesus...what a mess." Connor had to step back smartly when a nurse barreled out carrying an armful of bloodstained sheets and towels. His eyes bugged at the quantity of blood, giving another quick look into the room before returning to the others.

Abby was sitting hunched over, her elbows on her knees, her head in her hands. Nick had his arm draped over her shoulders, his head lifting when Connor drifted back.

"How does he look?"

"A mess." Connor replied succinctly, if not tactfully. Nick made a dismissive noise and cast his eyes to the heavens before giving Connor a glare.

"That's not very observant of you. How does he look?"

"Alive, for the most part. They have him hooked up to one of those machines and they have an oxygen mask on his face. Reckon he'll have a whole slew of new scars to cover the old ones at this rate." Connor sat down heavily in one of the vacant seats, pushing his ever present hat off his forehead before crossing his legs and preparing to wait it out.

Abby turned her head and gave Connor a thin smile, then resumed her contemplation of the vinyl flooring.

One of the attending doctors appeared, stripping off his latex gloves and consigning them to a bin before approaching the small group waiting for news.

"Are any of you related to the young man..." he consulted the chart he'd been handed by a nurse as he passed, "Stephen Hart?"

"I'm his boss..."

"I'm his partner..."

"I work with him!"

All three spoke at the same time, the doctor quickly sorting them out and turning to address Abby first. "He's lucky, none of the cuts were life threatening, but I'm concerned about post operative infection, given how much dirt was in several of the bigger gashes and with this amount of blood loss. We're going to be keeping him overnight watching for any sign of infection in the next twenty four hours. He's a healthy man, and this isn't the first time he's seen the inside of a hospital if the other scars are anything to go by, but we like to be cautious. He'll be sporting another impressive set front and back from this episode." The doctor paused and eyed the three speculatively. "Anyone care to tell me what did this to him?"

"Car accident?"

"An animal attack..."

"He fell?"

Again, they all spoke at once, Abby blushing a bright red in embarrassment at the disparate answers.

Nick smiled sheepishly at the doctor, but before he could open his mouth to try an explanation, the click clack of high heels on the vinyl floor tiles announced the arrival of Jenny Lewis, resplendent in a navy suit jacket, pink blouse and short skirt, her best public relations smile pinned to her face as she swept past her workmates and approached the doctor, her hand outstretched.

After that, the others only had to sit and wait, the doctor ushered away by Jenny with whatever plausible explanation the Home Office had concocted to explain what had happened to his patient.

Connor was on his third cup of coffee and starting to fidget when the curtain was swept back and Stephen wheeled out of the cubicle, Abby jumping to her feet instantly.

Stephen had been washed and dressed in a hospital gown, a sheet pulled up to his chest, but all signs of blood and trauma wiped away, only his state of unconsciousness and the oxygen mask giving away how serious the situation still was.

"We're taking him up to a ward to recover from the anaesthetic. He'll be on morphine to start with, so don't expect him to be very lucid until at least twenty four hours have passed. The duty doctor will check up on him tomorrow for any signs of complications, in the meantime he'll be in the care of the night staff," the doctor checked his watch, "who will be starting their shift in an hour or so."

"I want to stay with him." Abby stated, reaching for Stephen's lax hand as she trotted beside the bed.

"I figured as much. He's to have a room to himself, so I'll have one of the nurses find a comfortable chair for you. I'm afraid you won't all be able to stay..." he cast a glance back at Nick and Connor who were following behind the male nurse pushing the hospital bed.

"We weren't intending to," Nick answered, giving Abby a reassuring smile. "Let us know what you need and Connor can drop it off for you."

The trip up to the ward was accomplished with ease, the room allocated to Stephen on behalf of the Home Office, large and airy on the fourth floor with a view over the hospital grounds. While the nurse fussed with positioning the bed and hooking up the IV monitor and oxygen supply, Abby stood in the corner, her eyes not leaving the man in the bed.

Nick approached and put an arm around her shoulders. "Stephen's a strong lad...he'll pull through, just as he did before...don't worry."

Abby just nodded, too emotional to trust herself to say anything without wailing into Nick's jacket and embarrassing herself. Connor hovered, shifting from one foot to the other as he watched the nurse work, his glances at Abby full of concern.

The doctor reappeared in the doorway, Jenny a couple of steps behind him. After hooking the clipboard to the end of the bed, he turned to his interested audience and cleared his throat.

"I've arrange for a cot for Miss Maitland, and I've advised the ward nurse that she is to be allowed to stay overnight."

"Thank you," Abby murmured, grateful that she wouldn't have to fight to stay by Stephen's bedside beyond visiting hours.

Nodding to the others, the doctor conferred briefly with the male nurse, then they both left the room.

Abby went and sat on the edge of the bed and took Stephen's hand once more into her own, planting a kiss on his knuckles before rubbing it against her cheek, oblivious to the others in the room.

Embarrassed to witness the tender scene, Connor left, Nick doing the same to find Jenny waiting for him outside the room.

"You'll be pleased to hear the rest of the operation went off without a hitch. The doctor says that, barring infection, Stephen should make a full recovery."

"That's good new then...on all counts." Nick turned away from her to address Connor.

"You know what Abby is likely to need, so take the truck and get over to their hotel room. Pack a change of clothes for Stephen as well." Nick tossed the keys of the Toyota to the younger man, who grinned and turned on his heel, already on his way.

Jenny crossed her arms over her chest and regarded Nick with an amused glance. "I suppose this means I'll be giving you a lift back to the hotel?"

Nick glanced down at his own attire, liberally splattered with mud, leaves and Stephen's blood. "Well I can hardly go to dinner with you dressed as I am."

"Have I invited you?" Jenny gave him an arch look, the banter second nature in their strange relationship.

"Of course. Hate for you to have a wasted journey and have no where to show that outfit off in."

"You object to the outfit?" She placed her hands on her hips and glared.

"Not at all...just not exactly what I'd call suitable for traipsing around the Forest of Dean, or a hospital, for that matter."

"I came straight from a meeting, I'll have you know."

"Of course you did. How is Sir James?"

Not wanting to be drawn, Jenny turned on her high heels and sauntered off down the hallway towards the lifts. Nick ducked back into Stephen's hospital room and said goodbye to Abby, who acknowledged his farewell with a wan smile and a wave.

The lift had just pinged its arrival when he jogged up to join Jenny so they both walked into it at the same time.

"Going down?" Nick asked, his eyes twinkling at Jenny when she rolled her eyes at his laconic comment.

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

He was back in that hospital room again, the sound of the heart monitor both recognizable and terrifying. Had he regressed back to that first day he'd woken up? Had all the past year been nothing but a warped dream? Panicking, he tried to raise his hand, but it only managed a few millimeters off the bed covers before flopping back onto the bed. Why was he so weak? He opened his eyes and almost cried out in relief when he didn't recognize the room he was in. He was in a hospital, but not that hospital.

Relief flowed over him like a warm wave, perspiration prickling on his forehead and upper lip, the pleasant buzz of morphine taking the edge off the biting pain nagging at the fringes of his brain.

He tried to remember how he had ended up in the state he was in, his mind casting about for some point of reference. He'd been with Nick, in a wood near a school. They'd been tracking a bird, a terror bird, and he was lining up his shot. Did he shoot it or miss? What happened after that?

Licking his dry lips, he turned his head, looking for a call button. His skin felt alive as if a million ants were burrowing into him, his every move prompting another part of him to twinge with pain, quickly softened by the drugs flowing into his arm from the drip. The oxygen mask was like a lead weight on his face, his hand taking an unconscionable time to reach his face and remove it.

Free of the mask he gulped in air, wishing that it was cooler, that he didn't have so many blankets weighing down his legs. Shuffling his feet he managed to work the aircell blanket down his legs, but it got stuck about his ankles. Frustrated, he shifted, but a whole slew of pain made itself known down the length of his back, his heart rate soaring and making the alarm start beeping on the monitor.

A movement in the room drew his attention, a familiar figure rising from a pallet beside the bed to blink owlishly at him, her dark hair mussed in every direction. 

"Hey," he rasped. 

"Hey yourself..." Abby yawned, then came to stand beside the head of the bed, bending down to kiss his cheek and stare lovingly into his face. "How long have you been awake?"

"Not long...water?" His usually hoarse voice was rougher than normal, so Abby got a plastic cup and filled it from the jug left for that purpose. 

"Here...take a sip," She held his head up as he sucked at the water, only taking a little before his head fell back onto the pillows. The night light had been left on and she studied his features, noting the sheen of perspiration on his face, a trickle snaking into his hairline. "Stephen...do you feel hot?"

"I did...now I feel cold..."

Reaching for the call button Abby pressed it, her eyes worried as a shiver shook him, the movement making his wounds rub against the sheets, causing him to wince.

"What...happened?" 

"You were trampled on by that horrid bird...messed you up pretty good."

"More...to add...to...my collection." Stephen was shaking in earnest, his teeth starting to chatter just as the night nurse appeared and hurried over to the bed, a thermometer at the ready. After checking the heart monitor and noting the spike in blood pressure, she pressed the digital temperature gage into his ear, waiting a second for it to beep before pulling it out and reading the numbers on the tiny screen.

"You're running a bit of a temperature Mister Hart," she intoned, going to the end of the bed to fill in several columns of his chart with information.

"No...kidding," Stephen managed to get out between clenched teeth. Abby could only watch his silent battle and worry, her hand finding his and holding on as he rode out another series of shudders. 

"We'll start you on a different course of antibiotics to combat the infection causing the temperature."

"Oh great...stuff always turns me out..." 

"Then we'll make sure we dose you with something to offset that side effect...back in a tick." The nurse left the room, leaving Abby to try and comfort Stephen.

"God... I hate... hospitals...thought I'd... seen enough... to last... a lifetime."

"Hang in there, they said this might happen."

"You said that damn bird did this?"

Abby nodded. Stephen closed his eyes a moment before opening them again to stare feverishly up at her. "Bet the sod had dirty...claws...I'm probably crawling with...some primeval...bacteria nobody's...ever heard of..." he clamped his jaw to stop his teeth chattering, but only succeeded for a second before his body shook itself from head to toe.

Abby stared at him in consternation. Nobody had considered that possibility. What if he was infected with something so ancient they had nothing to combat it? Not wanting to pass on her hysteria, Abby pushed her fears out of the way and just concentrated on the man staring up at her with fever bright eyes.

"Don't even think about that - please love, just think about getting better. I'm dying to get you home so I can map all these new lines on your skin...you know that always makes everything better." Abby blushed at her audacity, still a little shy to discuss, outside the walls of her apartment, anything to do with their love life.

"I think I'll have enough...new scars to keep you busy...in bed...for a month."

Abby had to smile, applauding him for trying to keep his spirits up, despite the shudders racking his body. The nurse returned shortly after with a doctor in tow, and they hastily changed the drip with the first of many courses of antibiotics. Through the remainder of the night, Abby stayed awake, monitoring his symptoms, her hand clasped in his even when he drifted off into a restless sleep.

Come the morning and she didn't look much better than he did, with circles under her eyes and weariness in every joint. Her back ached from sitting on the chair beside the bed, while her hand had gone numb from Stephen squeezing it while he slept, dreams making him toss and mutter in his sleep.

Weary in every bone, Abby prised her hand free and fell onto the pallet beside his bed, asleep almost before her head hit the pillow. She remained oblivious when the doctor appeared for his morning rounds, when the male nurse returned and changed all the dressings, then the bed linen. She even slept through Nick and Connor visiting later in the morning with a bag of her stuff, the pair finding both Abby and Stephen dead to the world. 

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

He dreamt he was in his apartment, not the one Lester had organized, but his very own from the time before, complete with lime green paint and glass brick walls. His redecorating project was still only half completed with his gear scattered in heaps about the place, the dining table buried under a mountain of books. Disorientated, he wandered through the rooms until he reached the bedroom. 

"Hello Stephen..." He knew the voice, but took his time turning to face the owner.

Helen lounged naked in his bed, her lips lifting in a sly smile, the covers barely covering her breasts while the rest of her displayed itself with almost pornographic ease.

"What the hell are you doing here Helen?" He felt a chill pass over him, the scene eerily familiar but completely unwanted.

"Waiting for you, of course. Come to bed." He assumed she was trying for a seductive tone, but to his ears it sounded false and anything but beguiling.

"No." 

The scene abruptly shifted leaving him feeling dizzy. She was now standing, still naked and quite unashamed in front of him. He wondered at his complete lack of reaction to her naked body.

"Don't tell me you've forgotten..." reaching her hand up she stroked his face, ignoring the frown between his brows. "...come to bed and let me remind you..." her tantalizing purr only nauseated him.

He knew it was wrong, that he shouldn't be there, that someone else was waiting for him.

"This is wrong Helen...I...I don't love you...haven't for long time..."

He heard a door opening and turned to see who else was going to appear. Abby stood poised in the doorway, her hair a shock of white instead of the black he was used to, her blue eyes wide and stricken at the sight of a naked Helen Cutter standing in front of him. She was why this scene was all wrong, Abby was the one he wanted, not Helen.

"Abby...I...it's not..." he made to take a step towards her but his feet wouldn't move, Helen's arms winding around him like a vine, tightening every time he tried to move towards Abby until he was started to suffocate and choke, his hands tearing at Helen, her skin starting to flake off at he fought to free himself. "Abby...help...Abby!" In his nightmare he felt himself being dragged further and further away from the figure standing in the doorway, his hands reaching out for her, the force hauling him away feeling like claws shredding his flesh, teeth biting into skin and bone. He screamed.

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Abby jerked awake, Stephen's cries echoing in her head. Groggy, she staggered to the bed, noting the rapid beeping of the monitor. Snatching the emergency call button, she pressed it repeatedly.

Stephen remained caught up in his nightmare, his head pressed back against the pillows, his neck taught as he strained to break free of his imagined terror. 

"Stephen...Stephen..."Abby tried to wake him but he twisted away from her when she attempted to cup his face in her hands, his mouth contorting into a snarl before he jerked his head away. The door to the hospital room opened and the duty nurse came in, taking the situation in at a glance. 

"How long has he been like this?" 

"I...I...just a few minutes," Abby stood back to let the woman work, Stephen muttering incoherently, his body restless under the covers. Another nurse appeared in the room and between them, they managed to take Stephen's temperature, reinsert the needle in his hand and inject a drug to bring his heart rate down. 

Abby watched it all from the end of the bed, her arms wrapped around her shoulders as she waited to return to his side. The drug was working, Stephen no longer fighting his nightmare but still restless. After the nurses left, Abby pulled up the chair and sat beside the bed.

Within minutes of the nurses leaving Stephen started to come around, his eyes opening slowly, blinking as he tried to bring the room into focus.

"Helen..?"

Abby felt as if someone had just doused her in ice water, the start of a smile freezing on her face. Sand seemed to be choking her, Abby unable to answer his whispered query.

"Helen...I know you're here...why don't you say something?"

"It's Abby...Stephen, Helen isn't here..."

"She was...I saw her...in my bedroom...in my flat..." Stephen moved his head on the pillow, his eyes closing briefly, a frown drawing his brows together. "She wouldn't let me go...like teeth and claws...God...she wouldn't let go..."

Abby chewed her lip, her chest tight. Helen had been a part of so little of his return to life, they had almost forgotten how she'd coiled her poison around Stephen before his sacrifice, her rapid departure from the scene and subsequent disappearance cause for celebration that just maybe they'd seen the last of her. That Stephen didn't remember her or her part in his life was a mixed blessing. Certainly it meant that their love wasn't tainted by memories of Helen and her treachery, or of Stephen's betrayal of her husband, his best friend. But the downside meant that return of those memories could sour and warp what they were all trying so hard to forget. His nightmares another one of those repercussions. 

Abby bit at the edge of her thumb. Did his dreams mean his memories were starting to come back, after nearly a year? And if they did, would it spoil everything they'd created and experienced in the previous few months? Could she really bear to have her heart broken for a third time?

"Abby...Abby..." his quiet call to her made her mind up for her. Whatever his nightmares revealed to him, Abby was the one by his side and in his heart.

"I'm here..." Leaning over him, she stroked his sweat slick hair off his forehead, smoothing the frown between his eyes, her gaze affectionate and sure. "I've never left you...you had a nightmare Stephen, a dream...it's over now."

"I'm sorry...it seemed to real...I was trying to reach you...she wouldn't let me..." his eyes were fixed on her face, the lashes spiky with moisture, a single tear snaking away from the corner of his eye. Abby wiped it away with a gentle finger.

"A dream love, just a dream...it wasn't real..." 

"Bloody hell, I hope not...I felt...I think I felt what happened to me in that room... the pain..." Stephen swallowed hard, his eyes sliding shut, another tear escaping to track down into his hair.

Abby felt her own eyes tear up and blinked to keep them clear. "Forget it Stephen...it's history...over and gone. Helen can't hurt you anymore...she can't hurt us."

"Why was she in my bed? What the hell is it I don't remember?" He suddenly opened his eyes and stared up at her, "what haven't I been told?"

For a second Abby cursed Nick Cutter for not telling Stephen all he needed to know. Men. They had such a warped view of honor and ego. Forcing a smile to her lips she stroked his cheek with the back of her fingers.

"What did Nick tell you about the day you died?"

Stephen glanced off to the side, his eyes losing focus as he tried to pull up memories that were fragmented at best.

"He said you were all trapped in an underground bunker...by that guy, Oliver Leek...Lester's former PA. For whatever reason he'd been collecting animals and creatures from the past and keeping them there. He'd kidnapped you, all except me, and threatened Lester...somehow you got out, thanks to Rex, and that left Nick to fight off the future predators. Something mucked up and Leek ended up being killed by the predators. Nick said Helen was there too, but didn't explain why." He turned his head to look up at her. "I remember the room...the noise...a siren was sounding, some sort of alarm." He closed his eyes, his brow wrinkling as he tried to remember. "There were all sorts of creatures...I didn't believe they existed when I first woke up, they seemed to fantastic...now I know what they were. Nick said we lured them to a central feeding room but the door wouldn't close properly, so I volunteered to go inside and shut the door...I had to...I couldn't let Nick die, could I?"

"No love...you're just that sort of noble idiot to sacrifice yourself." Abby smiled down at him.

Stephen managed a small smile back, then he turned his head away, lost to his fractured memory of when he died. "When I first woke up I remembered seeing a man's face at a round window...I know now it was Nick on the other side of that door...I remember his face getting further and further away..." his voice started to fade along with his memories. "I don't know what happened next."

"Then don't try." Abby pleaded, knowing it was in vain.

"I can guess. Whatever was in that room with me attacked and left me for dead. Lester said they pumped the room full of gas to tranquilize the creatures. He said it saved my life."

Abby felt a lump in her throat and wanted to cry. 

"I think I died...in my dream I could feel them tearing me apart..."

"For God's sake Stephen...please."

"And Helen was there...she was one of those things tearing me apart." He closed his eyes, seeing again the woman that nobody wanted to talk about, naked in his bed, her body both familiar and alien, so wrong and yet not unknown to him. "Does Nick know about Helen?"

Abby used the heel of her hand to wipe her eyes, managing a small nod in answer.

"Shit. Why didn't he tell me that?"

Abby drew in a breath to steady herself. "Maybe...maybe he wanted to put the past behind him. Maybe he felt you and he had been given a second chance...a chance to leave Helen behind and create something she couldn't spoil or corrupt."

"What did I do Abby? I have to know...please."

"Nick should be the one..."

"Nick's not here. Abby...please?"

"Dammit Stephen...don't do this. Helen Cutter already blighted what we had before your death, are you going to let her destroy what we have now?"

Incensed, Abby rose to her feet and turned her back on the bed, all the anger she'd suppressed before his return welling up inside her. She felt her fingers curling into fists and wanted nothing more than to smash something, to feel her knuckles connect with something very solid – preferably a part of Helen Cutter's anatomy.

Whirling back to face him, she impatiently tucked her hair behind her ears then slowly paced back to stand beside the bed. Keeping her arms crossed, she avoided looking at Stephen, instead focusing on the heart monitor beeping out his pulse rate and cardio.

"I can only tell you what I know...or knew. Neither you nor Nick told us everything. Helen was the one to let the cat out of the bag. She betrayed you and Nick, destroying your relationship as efficiently as she knew how." She paused, then carried on, "You and Helen Cutter had an affair when you were her student. I have no idea how long it lasted, or how involved you were, whether you loved her or not, but it happened. You never told Nick in all the years you were together. No body suspected anything until Helen made a point of revealing it in such a way you had no chance to explain why or how. She left then, left you to carry all the guilt and blame, while Nick was left with nothing."

"And you?"

Abby hung her head, staring down at her sneakers. "I think I hated you at that moment. You were so damn cool and calm about it, as if having your deepest guilty secret exposed was nothing more important than an inconvenience."

"Oh Abby..."

"You wanted to know, so I'll tell you the rest. Helen came back and managed to convince you there was some sort of conspiracy among us, that we were working against you, that we were the enemy. I don't know why you believed her, but she managed to hoodwink you, and you never let on to Nick or us that she had been in touch. Nick thought the worst when it came out she'd been to your place. We all did. We assumed you were sleeping with her again."

"I don't know...I don't remember..." Stephen passed a shaky hand over his face, regret in every line of his expression. "Abby I'm sorry...I don't remember any of this."

"By the time Leek kidnapped us, we didn't know what side you were on. It was assumed you were Helen's ally, that you might even have had a hand in what Leek was organizing."

"No..."

"Nick explained later that you were duped, that you didn't know what had been going on."

"Thank God...Abby..."

"Then you had to go and sacrifice yourself...not only for Nick, but to keep her safe as well. She should have been the one to do it, not you. She should have been the one torn apart..." Shaking with the force of her emotions, Abby covered her face with her hands.

"Sweetheart don't...please...don't do this...Abby?"

Levering himself up on one elbow, he just managed to reach one hand to grasp the hem of her t-shirt and pull her towards the side of the bed. With sweat beading his forehead, he drew her closer until he would reach up and prise her hands away.

"Don't cry...I can't bear it when you cry...I'm sorry I put you through that."

"You just had to ask...if I ever see Helen Cutter again I won't hesitate to shoot her for what she did to you...to us...the team."

"God, I'm sorry...hey...look at me...Abby, please." 

Reluctantly, but unable to refuse him, she met his eyes, blue on blue.

"I love you, dearest, sweetest Abby. I should hate Helen...but if she hadn't done what she did, I wouldn't have been given a second chance to put things right. We would never have been granted another chance to meet, fall in love again and be together. I hope I never, ever see her again...I have no feelings for her, none at all. You are the only thing that matters to me now...you Abby, only you."

Exhausted, he fell back against the pillows, panting.

Abby stood beside the bed and felt as if her whole world had just shifted under her feet. This was the moment she committed herself or walked away. He knew it all now, there were no more secrets to keep, no more subjects to avoid. Was she really prepared to trust him once more? Or was she setting herself up for a monumental fall when Helen appeared back in their lives?

Sitting down heavily in the plastic chair, she leant against the side of the bed, her hand finding his, his own squeezing hers reassuringly.

"Stephen?"

She waited for his eyes to open and his head to turn towards her.

"I want to believe you...I really, really want to believe you."

"Abby..."

"No...let me finish." She waited for him to give her a small nod before continuing. "I don't know what Helen managed to concoct to convince you she was telling the truth, and frankly, I don't want to know how she managed it either. I do know this. She is manipulative and dangerous. As far as everyone at the ARC is concerned she is number one on our hit list. You have to promise me, promise all of us..." Abby paused, her eyes not wavering from his. "You have to promise on my life that whatever plausible reason she gives you for coming back, for seeing you and no one else, that you won't keep it a secret."

"You have it...she won't..."

"She will...she always does. We've been lucky. She thought you were dead and gone. Pretty soon, if not already, she'll find out you're not. Without Leek, she doesn't have a spy to tell her what is going on in the ARC, but that could change. No one knows how Helen finds out what she does, so it's possible she already knows about you. If she does, she'll try and use you again, I just know it."

"She can't do that...I'm not the man she used before...I'm not that Stephen."

"I know..." bringing his hand up she placed it flat against her face, his fingers curling to cup her cheek.

"Abby?"

"Mmmmm?"

"Marry me."

The nuzzling stopped and she raised her head to stare at him. "Wh-w-what?"

"Marry me."

She sat for a moment, her mouth a perfect oh of surprise for a few seconds before she realized and snapped it shut. "You just asked me..."

"To marry me...yes. Three times now."

"Yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes."

"Thank God." He grinned crookedly, his eyes sliding shut.

"Stephen?"

"How soon can I get out of this place?"

Abby smiled. "When the doctor gives you the all clear."

"Any chance today?"

"Nope."

"Damn." He lifted his free hand and beckoned her closer. When she leaned in, he wrapped his hand around the back of her head and pulled her in for a kiss.

They were still kissing when the doctor entered to check on his patient.

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to be continued...


	12. Fly in the Soup

18/3/08

Title: Forgotten

Chapter: 12 - Fly in the Soup

Author: Squeezynz

Setting: Post S2Ep7 – nearly a year after the event.

Pairing: Stabby, what else?

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Nick downed the lukewarm coffee he'd forgotten about and leant back in his chair. Certainly his brightly lit, space age office at the ARC wasn't a patch on his old university digs, but it had it's advantages. Everything was high tech and frighteningly efficient. There were new security protocols for all the doors after the incident in the Silurian and others when evidence went missing before Leek was discovered to be the traitor. He had added plants so that books now competed with the leaves for dominance. He'd found another battered leather chair to lounge in, and he could, at the press of a button, keep tabs on what the rest of his team were doing within the confines of the building.

Flicking that switch, he checked the various security screens, noting that Jenny was in with Lester, her excitable gestures probably her report on their latest escapades. He toggled to another screen and saw Connor sitting at the anomaly detector, tweaking it for the millionth time, another tech sitting beside him. He recognised the girl as a recent recruit, a real whizz in genetic sequencing. Obviously Connor was giving her a run down on the ADD, his head turning frequently to face her, the both of them laughing over something the young man said.

Nick had to give Connor credit for taking the news of Stephen and Abby's engagement so well. It had hardly come as a shock to anyone else, but Nick saw the flash of regret shadow the younger man's face when Abby proudly showed off the ring to a gaggle of female staff in the locker room. Connor just as quickly masked it, jumping into the fray and giving his considered opinion much to the delight and laughter of the women, giving Abby a hug and voicing his congratulations with as much affection as anyone. Nick had done the same, hugging the petite zoologist and kissing her cheek, making her blush. He was happy for her, and for Stephen. Given all that his friend had gone through, as well as Abby, they both deserved a chance at happiness. He hoped that Connor would have that chance as well someday.

Sitting forward, he flicked to the next screen and saw Stephen and Abby leave the kitchen together, mugs in hand, in step despite their disparity in height, heading down the corridor towards one of the labs. He knew the latest specimens would prove an irresistable lure for Abby, Stephen almost matching her for innate curiosity and wanting to get his hands on the samples and technical data.

Nick smiled and sat back into his chair, letting the couple disappear off his screen when they entered the lab, Stephen holding the swing door for Abby while she smiled impishly up at him as she passed under his arm. Downing the last of the coffee, he decided to leave the confines of his office and join them, almost as intrigued as they obviously were to find out all they could from what they'd captured.

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"Fascinating." Nick took the x-ray and held it up to the light to take a better look.

"Looks like a giant armadillo." Abby observed, grimacing when the laboratory assistant powered up his surgical saw to cut through the carapace.

"They were early relatives of the modern species." Nick put the x-ray down and picked up the initial report from the laboratory. "Nothing here to indicate what killed the beast."

The whine of the saw filled the air, everyone almost imperceptibly leaning forward for a better look. A sheet of toughened glass protected them from the staff within, the air inside the secure dissection room soon filled with water vapour and dust from the saw. They heard the extractor fans kick in and the room quickly cleared revealing all three of the lab techs bending over the carcass and peering into the body cavity.

Stephen took a last gulp of his coffee before putting it on the workbench. Turning away from the glass partition wall, he squinted at the other x-rays already displayed on the light box. "Nothing much here. No apparent injuries, no obvious tumours or parasites."

Behind him Abby shuddered, her coffee left to get cold as she watched the people encased in suits, masks and breathing gear on the other side of the wall. She remember all too well the size of the parasite that appeared out of the Dodo. She glanced over her shoulder at Nick and Stephen, both of them poring over the blood test results. Stephen had his arms crossed, pulling the shirt on his back tight across his shoulders, the dressing from his last injuries clearly visible under the thin material.

She turned away, not wanting to think about the new scars or how close he'd come to being killed by the terror bird. He'd only been released from hospital two weeks ago, but the wounds hadn't healed completely, Stephen still needing to keep up with his course of antibiotics to fight the ongoing infections. She felt him come up behind her, his presence a warm bulk at her back.

The lab techs were close to freeing the carapace, separating it from the creature underneath the shell.

"Poor thing."

Stephen placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. "There's no obvious reason why it died. The others showed no signs of illness or injury. For creatures with a formidable mace at the end of their tails they were remarkably biddable. Seemed more interested in what was to eat, than causing problems."

"It was only a baby really. A fraction of the size of the others. Maybe that's why it didn't survive."

"Maybe."

The whine of the saw finally died, the three lab techs wrestling with the rounded shell to remove it. Suddenly they stopped what they were doing and started to back away from the corpse on the table.

Nick had come to stand beside Abby and Stephen to watch the proceeding. "What's going on?"

"Don't know...they were taking the carapace off." Stephen told him, watching what was going on with a frown of concentration.

All three were watching intently, Abby jumping when the anomaly alarm sounded. "Damn."

Nick chuckled. "They always seem to have the worst timing."

Together, they filed out of the observation room and headed for the ADD, leaving the dissection techs to their puzzle, Connor standing in front of the screen, for once not hopping from foot to foot in excitement.

"Connor? What do we have?" Nick called out while still several feet away.

Both Abby and Stephen noticed the young man's unusually still attitude as well.

"Connor?"

The girl beside him was darting looks back towards the people approaching, her expression worried.

"Professor...I think there's something wrong?"

Nick reached Connor's side, his smile quickly fading. "Oh my God." As the others came to stand beside him, Nick clapped a hand on Connor's shoulder and squeezed. "How many are there?"

"I – I don't know...they just started...flippin' 'eck...they're everywhere..."

As everyone stared at the multiple information screens, they could see numerous targets on the screens, up and down the length and breadth of the British Isles. More people were starting to drift towards the ADD, the crowd swelling until half the staff were standing there.

Lester noticed and came out of his office, Jenny at his side. "Would someone like to tell me what the hell is going on? And kill that alarm!"

The silence once the siren was shut off was almost as bad. Not getting anyone to reply to his question, Lester stomped down the ramp to the floor of the ARC and approached the anomaly detector. Jenny followed, catching the swift glance from Nick when he looked up at her. The crowd of techs and soldiers parted for Lester, until he stood beside Nick and the others.

"What the bloody hell is..." Lester started to ask, only to have his mouth fall inelegantly open for a few seconds before he snapped it shut with an audible click. "What's the count?"

Connor visibly cringed and half turned, "fifty seven give or take..."

"Fifty seven?" Lester's voice rose an octave, the Home Office man thoroughly ruffled by the unexpected number of incursions. "Are they limited only to the United Kingdom or are they now off shore as well?"

Connor hunched his shoulders and leant forward to tap at the keyboard. "Um...no...actually, they appear to be closing again...and all only here, so far...down to forty three...two...thirty eight..."

"What just happened?" Jenny asked, peering at the screens intently.

"An outbreak maybe? Like a rash of earthquakes?" Nick suggested, his eyes fixed on the screens. "Connor, are they shutting down in the same sequence they opened?"

"I don't...hang on..."Connor's fingers flew over the keyboard, one screen changing to show the pattern of appearance. "They appear to be shutting down in reverse order. Twenty two...seventeen..."

"Hmmm." Was all Nick said, his fair brows pulling together. Jenny cast him a sideways glance but he ignored her unspoken question as to what he was thinking. Lester wasn't so inhibited.

"You have a theory?" Lester asked, folding his arms across his chest and turning to face Nick.

"In a moment...how many now Connor?"

"Hard to believe...but we're back to just one," Connor pointed to the screen where a target flashed repeatedly, the screen zooming in from a satellite perspective to show where it was located. "It's close by...really, really close by..." Connor glanced over his shoulder at Nick, his expression surprised. "It's here...and it's moving!"

Another set of sirens suddenly blared into life making everyone jump, the soldiers in the group instantly bringing their weapons to bear, Captain Richards signaling for his troops to disperse and take up their positions.

"Everyone return to your stations...immediately!" Lester's command sent most of the staff scattering away from the ADD, leaving Nick and his team to stand shoulder to shoulder, the special forces taking up positions around the ground floor, eyes scanning all the walls for a sign of the approaching anomaly.

"How is this possible?" Stephen asked, "anomaly's don't move?"

"They have been known to traverse a fault line...to follow a water course...maybe this is doing that?"

"It's right here!" Connor burst out, spinning around to look at the wall behind them. Everyone did the same, the wall starting to glow, spears of light piercing the sheer metal cladding as the anomaly pushed it's way through.

Captain Richards rushed forward, in front of the Nick and Lester. "I'd ask you to get back behind the line sir...if something comes through..."

"Quite." Lester instantly led the way, Nick and the others following to a point beyond the ADD and behind the rapidly forming defensive line of black clad troops.

"Steady men...hold your fire..." The anomaly was now almost through the wall, the flickering, gyrating blades of light making shadows dance and the massive overhead lights seem dim by comparison.

"It's bigger..." Nick observed, squinting to see better.

"It's brighter..." Abby added, holding up her hand to shield her eyes as the light intensified. The soldiers quickly donned sunglasses and goggles to combat the achingly bright light of the anomaly, the others doing their best to cope.

They watched the time portal but it appeared to have stopped it's progress, hovering just inside the inner wall, hanging like a captured sun within the ARC.

The sound of something metal hitting the floor brought everyone's head up. "Grenade!"

Captain Richards shout galvanised everyone into action. The soldiers directly in front of the anomaly dived to the side, while Lester found himself grabbed and hustled to safety beneath the sheltering roof of the curved ramp, Nick and the others joining him there seconds before a bright flash and a dull boom set the floor heaving up beneath their feet before throwing them all to the ground. Clouds of gas started to fill the huge open space, some of the special forces managing to get gas masks on, others of their team not quick enough and succumbing to the fumes instantly.

"We have to get out of here..." Lester joined Nick and the others as they sprinted ahead of the gas cloud towards the door leading into the heart of the ARC. Dark figures started to loom out of the cloud, the sound of grunts and bodies hitting the floor following them through the swing doors, a single shot the only returning fire to the invasion taking place.

"The armory!" Stephen yelled, his long legs carrying him ahead of the others as they ran down the corridor. Lester slammed his hand on a security button as they raced past, the doors to the various labs and offices locking shut and sealing in their occupants, as well as protecting them from the fumes starting to seep past the swing doors behind them.

Stephen slid over the counter of the armory and instantly made a grab for the gas masks hanging at the side. Tossing them over the counter to his friends, he quickly donned one himself before heading for the guns racked up on the far wall. Lester entered the small area and took the weapons held out to him, passing them along to Nick and Connor and the women, Abby and Jenny taking the hand guns. The gas was starting to fill the room, blurring outlines and making walls and doors indistinct.

"Damn...can't see anything in this!" Lester's peeved voice came out deeper and muffled from behind the mask, the others keeping in eye contact as they waited for Stephen. Once all together they took up defensive positions and waited. Lester headed back into the armory to the computer terminal on the bench. Hitting a sequence of keys he killed the alarm siren, everyone giving him a grateful glance for the reprieve from the assault on their ears.

"I can access the security camera's from here, they might give us a better idea of what's going on."

"I can't hear any shooting," Connor observed.

"I only heard one shot," Abby added.

"Gas must have got them rest. Can you see anything?" Stephen called out to Lester.

"Not a lot. Most of the rest of the staff and technicians are safely sealed in their labs and offices. They look pissed but unharmed. The main floor is still flooded with gas, or smoke or whatever it is. There's bodies on the ground, but I don't think they've been shot...just knocked out." Lester paused for a second, "ah, wait a sec...there's men...a dozen or more heavily armed from what I can see...agh, they knocked out one of the camera's, hang on, switching over...damn they just knocked out another. We'll be blind if they keep this up."

Stephen glanced over at Lester and saw the man almost jump back from the screen. "Hey...what is it?"

Instead of answering, Lester turned the screen around for them all to see.

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Helen eased off the mask and breathed deeply. The air still held the faint tang of the gas, her mouth tingling as she drew in breath after breath. The floor around her was littered with the insensible bodies of the entire defensive force of the ARC. The one man able to squeeze off a round lay gagged and bound, his face bruised in retaliation for the man he'd wounded. Her own troops stood at strategic vantage points and awaited her command. Smiling, she walked forward to the ADD and started to type. Before long she was able to ascertain that most of the staff and lab technicians were safely contained in their rooms and laboratories. The remaining staff members still free were holed up in the armory.

They were all wearing gas masks and she counted six. Nick was easy to recognise, as was Lester and the young geeky student. There was also the PR madam Jenny, a dark haired girl and another man, neither of whom she recognised. Activating the ventilating system for that area she quickly sucked out the remaining gas.

"Come out, come out wherever you are," she sing-song'd into the intercom system, her voice booming out around the ARC. "No need to skulk in the armory Nick...why not come out and say hello to your...wife."

She watched Nick rip off his gas mask and glare at the monitor she was using to convey her image. She saw his mouth move but didn't leave the screen on long enough to decipher his words.

"He'll be here soon, get ready," she instructed her security force, her small army arranging themselves to cover the swing doors leading into the depths of the ARC.

Helen sat herself down on the swivel seat in front of the anomaly detector, crossing one slim leg over the other a she waited for her estranged husband to arrive. Lester appeared first, the home office man looking as dapper as ever, his suit and hair immaculate. Behind him came her husband, Nick Cutter, his expression thunderous. The student followed close behind with the statuesque brunette, with the unknown man and shortish woman bringing up the rear. As they cleared the swing doors, her own men quickly swarmed all over them, patting them down for weapons before securing their hands behind their backs with plastic ties, only the girl and the woman, Jenny, left with their hands free.

Satisfied they posed no more threat, the captives were pushed forward to stand before Helen.

"What's the meaning of this?" Nick growled, his blue eyes narrowed to slits as he surveyed his former wife.

Helen's gaze drifted over the others, noting that Lester looked bored, the younger man looked wary, Jenny looked furious and the other couple... she stared hard at the man, noting his height and the way he stood protectively near to the girl. With a start of surprise Helen realised she knew the slip of a thing. It was the little zoologist, Abby, the one the geeky one had an infatuation about. But if body language was anything to go by, the girl had thrown over the boy for the man at her side. Helen glanced at him again, her head tilting as she noted things that started to become familiar. When she made the connections her brown eyes opened wide and she ignored Nick and the others completely, pushing past them all to stand in front of the man at the back.

"Stephen!" Her breathy exclamation was intended only for his ears, Stephen turning his head to look at anything other than Helen. Her hand on his face forced him to face her, Stephen choosing to tilt his chin up so that he was looking down his nose at her, his intensely blue eyes staring through her with an expression of bored contempt. Engrossed in her scrutiny, she pressed up against him, Stephen remaining perfectly still, his lips compressed in a line.

Nick inched closer and stood beside Abby, sending his silent support through the touch of his arm against her shoulder. Connor had also shifted closer, coming to stand on her other side, edging out the soldier standing guard.

"Stephen...not dead after all...what a bonus." Helen finished her intimate appraisal, her fingers lifting away from tracing the scars on his face to be placed on her hips, leaning back slightly to glance up and down his lean frame. "And apparently all in one piece." Helen glanced over at Lester and raised an eyebrow. "You're just full of surprises James." Turning back to face Stephen, Helen reached up and tugged at the short beard covering his jaw. "Lose that lover, I can't abide beards."

Abby enraged gasp drew Helen's attention back to her. Glancing between Stephen and Abby, Helen smirked and laid a hand against Stephen's shirt, feeling the warmth of this flesh underneath. "Sorry...but I saw him first."

"Get your hand off me." Stephen's throaty snarl took Helen by surprise, his glittering gaze now fixed on her and making her take a step back from the sheer, naked rage sizzling out of them.

"Steady lover...don't push your luck too far. I might decide to take out my spite on the little zoologist. She's make a great companion for my special forces." Turning on her heel, Helen sashayed back to the swivel chair and got comfortable. Inside, she was shaken and unsettled. Finding Stephen alive and well was a shock, her plans suddenly taking on a new direction as she included him in their execution. That he didn't seem particularly pleased to see her was no surprise to her, expecting as she was that he blamed her for his scarred face and brush with death at the claws of the predators he'd been locked in with.

She'd tried to rescue him herself, but instead had found the place over run with Lester's men, forcing her to escape with nothing but her backside intact. Leek was gone, Nick would never trust her again, and in all probability Stephen was dead. She had only returned for the funeral to satisfy herself that Nick was unharmed, her promise to the empty grave her own wishful thinking.

Now she had resources and a force of her own to use, and the unexpected bonus of having Stephen apparently returned to her. She'd soon bring him around again to her side. She'd managed it once, she could do it again.

"Take the others somewhere and lock them up. Leave him," she pointed to Stephen, " with me. I've got some catching up to do."

"Helen," Nick shouted at her over his shoulder as two of the soldiers bundled him away. "Don't do this...whatever plan you have, it's not worth it!"

Helen watched in amusement as the girl tried to fight off one of her men, Stephen prevented from helping her by the two burly men holding him back, the girl finally hefted over the henchmens' shoulder and carted away, the geeky student stumbling after her, shepherded by the gun pointed at his back.

Stephen stood staring after them, the two men keeping him securely held back until their team members disappeared through the swing doors and beyond their sight, taking with them Lester and the others, Abby giving one last cry before the door swung shut.

"Damn you. What the bloody hell do you want?" Stephen swung around and glared at Helen Cutter, his teeth bared in open defiance.

"Stephen...I see that coming back from the dead hasn't sweetened your temper any. You should thank me..."

"What the fuck for?" Stephen interrupted, stepping forward to bring him closer to her, the two men either side of him ready to hold him back if Helen gave the signal.

"For not taking exception to you having a fling with that girl. I'm normally quite a jealous woman and don't like to share my toys."

"I'm not your toy Helen. Given what I've been told of you and what you did before, I'm surprised you have the gall to show up here."

"What you've been told? What do you mean?"

Stephen smiled, "I mean what I've been told. Whatever you think we had Helen...I forgot it. I forgot you."

Helen blinked at him. "I don't believe you.."

"Believe what you like, but when I returned, I didn't know you...or anyone from before. Everything I have now is from what I've done and who I've met in the last year. I can happily say that I look at you and feel nothing other than..." he bit off what he was going to say next, suddenly aware that Helen was looking at him with narrowed eyes, a frown forming between her brows, her threat to Abby still ringing in his ears.

"You don't remember?"

Stephen shook his head slowly from side to side. "As far as I can recall, you don't exist for me. Whatever you think you had with the Stephen I was before...it never happened. I'm not him."

Helen flung her arms wide. "You're here...you're working with Nick...that makes you no different than where you were before. You're still the same man."

"But thankfully without whatever emotional hold you had over me before. As far as I'm concerned you're Nick Cutter's ex wife who went missing, and now does nothing but cause headaches for everyone here at the ARC. Did you know you're on the hit list at number one?"

"Number one...well, well. Just as well I brought my own force to protect me."

"Why are you here? It wasn't because of me...you didn't know I was even here."

"No. That was a surprise, a pleasant one, but still unexpected." Helen rose to her feet and stepped forward, once more invading his personal space. "I must say, this new look is starting to intrigue me. Is the body the same as the face?"

"None of your business." Stephen ground out, moving to step back but finding his way blocked by the soldiers. Helen once more reached out her hand and flattened it against his shirt over his chest.

"You may not remember me Stephen...but I certainly remember you. That last kiss..." she made to fan herself, her lips pursed in a silent whistle. "I'm surprised you find that colourless zoologist sufficient for your taste. I'd have thought you'd have eaten her up in one bite."

"Leave Abby out of this."

Helen moved her hand, dragging it over his shirt front. "She's such a brainless little bint. First she's chasing after you with that ridiculous bleach blond punk look, then she's panting after the stupid computer nerd. I'm surprised she didn't throw herself at Nick as well. Now she's reinvented herself with an appalling hair cut, hideous dye job, equally dreadful taste in clothes and somehow managed to imagine herself in love with you again."

"Shut up."

"You know you could have had any female you cared to crook your finger at, but you ignored them all...except me. I don't believe you have a tenth of the feeling for her that you have for me."

"Not have...had. Believe what you want. I no longer care."

Helen lifted her hand from his shirt front and wrapped her fingers around his upper arm, running her hand up and down, feeling the muscles move under the soft cotton.

"Then I'll have to care for the both of us. Aren't you the least bit curious what I've been doing for the past year?"

"Should I be?"

"Oh yes lover...you should be very curious." Wrapping her hand around the back of his neck, Helen reached up on tiptoe and kissed him, her lips pressing against his but finding nothing but unyielding lips and a closed mouth. She tried again but he merely submitted without reacting. Snarling her frustration, she reached down and cupped him through his jeans, her fingers finding nothing to indicate she had any effect on him in a sexual context at all.

Stephen had had enough and raised his leg to kick her away, Helen's henchmen reacting by wrenching him off balance and securing him again before he could lash out.

Helen stepped back, her face set. "Enough of this farce. Take him through and secure him on the other side." She watched the two men drag Stephen through the anomaly before marching over to the swing doors, two of her men falling into place at her side.

"I want the information downloaded and everything wiped. Whatever research they have, I want it, and then make sure they can't access it ever again. We've expended enough time on this. There'll be reinforcements arriving at any moment, so don't waste a second longer." One of the men peeled off and set off back to the ADD at a run, calling another man over who was carrying a large pack. The remaining soldier stayed by Helen's side as she barreled through the swing doors and headed to where the others were being held.

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to be continued...


	13. Double or Nothing

25/03/08

Title: Forgotten

Chapter: 13 – Double or Nothing

Author: Squeezynz

Setting: Post S2Ep7 – about a year later

Pairing: Stabby – only the best

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Lester drummed his fingers against the glass wall of his office and looked down at the chaos that was his Anomaly Research Center. Most of the staff had been cleared to go home, the area where the anomaly had appeared cordoned off and given a wide berth by most of the people walking past.

Directly below his office he could see the top of Abby and Connor's heads, the two young people sitting at the girls' desk and talking. He wasn't surprised that they were still down below, with the abduction of both Stephen and Nick Cutter by the latter's former wife Helen, he would have been more surprised if they'd left.

It was now six hours since Helen had made her precipitous appearance at the ARC, apparently able to control an anomaly at will and with her own army of mercenaries to call on. It had been distressing to see how easily his own forces had been overwhelmed. The only plus side had been the lack of casualties on either side, although he would have been happy to put a bullet between Helen's eyes even if it was against department policy. It was now even more imperative to capture the woman and learn all she knew.

"The minister is on the phone." Jenny's voice broke into his musings and he pushed away from the glass window to take the phone from her hand. Before he spoke, he gave her a look that said far more than he was about to say to his immediate superior. Jenny nodded and left the room.

"Yes minister, Sir James Lester speaking..."

Jenny snicked the door shut behind her, turning to look over her shoulder through the glass door at Lester speaking on the phone. The man had his head bowed, his free hand pinching the bridge of his nose as he relayed his report. She was glad she wasn't in his shoes right at that moment. Her shoes were pinching so she slipped them off and padded down the long ramp to the ground floor. At the bottom she paused, acknowledging the nod from the camouflage clad regular army posted near the main door. Captain Richards and his men had all been taken to be checked out for after effects to whatever the gas was, released by Helen and her henchmen. There had been no residual to test, other than what appeared in the men's bloodstreams. Even the grenade had been taken away when the invading force left finally through the anomaly, scant seconds before the rescue forces arrived.

Jenny padded over to where Abby and Connor sat, her shoes dropped to the desk top before she flopped down onto a spare swivel chair.

Connor glanced upwards at Lester's office then back at her. "What's the word?"

"He's on the phone to the minister now. As for the word...I don't know."

Abby looked grimly determined, her eyes red rimmed but brilliant, her mouth pulled into an unforgiving line. "We are going after them...I don't care what they say."

"And where would you suggest we start looking?" Jenny didn't mean to snap, but it had been a long day and seeing Nick hauled away to an unknown fate had left her nerves raw. "We have no idea how or why Helen appeared when she did. We don't know if they're in the past or the future...or even why she took them both?" Jenny shook her head and glanced up at Connor. "Have you found out what they did to the ADD?"

"Snatch and wipe." Connor answered, then grinned. Jenny frowned at him.

"Why are you looking so happy? If they wiped it, how are we going to be able to use it? All that research, all the records...all the information we got from Leek!" She dropped her head in her hands. "God, what a mess."

Connor continued to grin, apparently unfazed by the catastrophe. Abby twisted around and look up at him. "What do you know that we don't know?"

"Ah...I was hoping you'd ask me that. Move over..." He started to type on Abby's keyboard, the screen showing a series of open windows, each more complicated than the previous one. Abby and Jenny sat and watched, Connor concentrating so hard he fingers fairly flew over the keys.

"Connor...if you know something...why have you waited until now to do something?" Abby hissed, anger evident in her voice.

"Because I don't trust anybody...except you two...oh and him..." Connor jerked a thumb upwards to indicate Lester in his office above them. "After Leek...I put some security measures of my own in place. Even Cutter doesn't know about all of them."

"Security measures?" Jenny asked faintly. "What have you done?"

"Are we going to be able to find them?" Abby asked, the only question she wanted an answer to.

"If they download everything they took from here to their own system...yes."

For a moment both women looked at Connor with hope in their eyes. Abby was the first to move, leaping up and wrapping her arms about his neck and giving the young man a smacking kiss on the cheek.

"Connor I love you!"

With a blush staining his face and neck, Connor stared at her for a second then grinned. "Will I be the one to tell Stephen, or will you?"

Releasing him, Abby mock punched him on the arm, Connor reacting by clasping his arm and pulling agonized faces until she laughed.

"Idiot. How soon before you know where they are?"

"Geez...don't expect much do you? This is pretty sexy stuff, I'll have you know. I've been spending all my spare time, and all the other time as well, trawling through Leek's system. Just give me a moment, and I'll have the answer...talk about impatient!" Despite his petulant tone, Connor was grinning throughout, Abby starting to almost hop from foot to foot in anticipation. Jenny got up and walked around to peer over the boys' shoulder, the information on the screen way over her head in terms of understanding the workings of the geek mind.

Unnoticed by any of the three was Lester. He hadn't deliberately crept up on the trio, but his leather shoes made barely a sound on the hard floor as he approached. He could almost taste the excitement as he watched from a few feet away. Whatever rabbit Connor was pulling out of his computer hat, it certainly had the two women excited.

Unaware of his silent scrutiny, Connor punched a final button which in turn activated the previously dormant ADD, all the screens leaping into light and activity, Connor jumping into the air and punching his fist, at the same time realizing he had an addition to his audience.

"Something to celebrate?" Lester asked, his voice deliberately droll. "Care to share with the class?"

"Oh...er...yes." Connor shared a look with Jenny and Abby before returning his gaze to Lester. "You see..."

"You've been busy...spare me the gobbledegook...just give me the facts. Can you pinpoint where they are?"

"Kinda...I can pinpoint where the computer program is. It's quite possible, and very probable that is where Cutter and Stephen are as well."

"And you kept this information to yourself why?"

Again Connor looked to Abby and Jenny for reassurance before facing Lester. " Leek."

Lester smiled thinly and nodded. "Agreed. Care to fill us in on where we go from here?"

He waited while the three rounded Abby's work station and walked over to the newly restored ADD, Connor talking while he shifted between screens and keyboards.

"The only way that this will work is if there's an anomaly open between our world and theirs. Some time ago I found out that Helen is able to activate an anomaly and shield if from appearing on our detector." He glanced apologetically at Lester. "Nick asked me to keep that bit of intel to myself."

"Yes. I'll be having words with Professor Cutter when I see him again."

"Anyway..."Connor continued, "after finding a similar program buried among Leek's downloads, I ran it, like a virus checker against what we had, and it showed up an anomaly that we hadn't seen before. Several in fact."

"Locations?" Lester asked.

"Here...here...and here." Connor pointed to the screen and Lester leant closer.

"That explains a great deal. So not so random after all."

"Not random at all...at least these weren't. Given what we already knew, and what we got from Leek, we've been formulating a way of possibly opening one of our own."

"An anomaly?" Jenny blurted out.

"Yeah...it's not that difficult when you know how she's been doing it."

"Connor...you've just said you can open an anomaly!" Abby added, as gobsmacked as Jenny at the implications. "Has this been trialled? Have you already created one before?"

"Well...no. But I'm pretty sure I can replicate the conditions...Helen bringing one here gave me what I needed to know."

Turning back to the keyboard, Connor hunched forward and tapped furiously at the keyboard, the screens changing and scrolling information at a phenomenal speed so that the others could only blink and stand back to allow him room to work.

"Hand me the anomaly detector on your desk Abby," Connor asked, not taking his eyes off the screens. Abby jogged over to the desk and picked up the black box with its modified aerial detector. Handing it over, she watched Connor plug in a USB cable into it. An image of the schematics of the box showed up on one of the screens like an x-ray.

"You see...we've been only using these to help up detect the rifts close up...the ADD gives us the approximate, these give us the accurate. Now I can change them to broadcast as well as receive. And voila!" Connor unplugged the box and spun around on his chair, pointing the box at the far wall his finger poised over the button.

Lester moved fast and grasped the young man's wrist to prevent him. "Wait a moment. Just hold off on the demonstration for a few seconds."

"Oh...okay." Connor dropped his arm and watched as Lester approached one of the soldiers. Whatever he said precipitated the man to speak into his radio before waving to the others positioned around the open space to leave their posts and come forward. Lester strolled back to where the other three waited.

"As this might be a tad unpredictable, I thought it best to make sure they're over here, in front of whatever you create, than behind it."

"Um...yeah...good idea." They waited until the soldiers ranged themselves beside and behind the ADD before Lester gave Connor the signal to proceed with his demonstration.

Once more he pointed the detector at the far wall, to the left of where the previous anomaly had appeared. Drawing in a breath, he pressed the button, squeezing his eyes shut at the same time. For a second nothing happened, everyone tense in expectation. Then a small glow started as a pinpoint half way up the wall, the glow expanding and expanding until is formed the familiar shape and size of an anomaly, the floating shards sparkling and glittering in the semi gloom.

"Oh my God, you did it!" Abby shouted, once more throwing her arms about Connor, who was looking similarly amazed that it had gone as easily as it did.

Both Jenny and Lester exchanged a wide eyed glance before turning back to stare at the apparition floating above the floor.

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Nick shifted on the hard bunk trying to find somewhere; anywhere more comfortable to allow him to sleep. He was being held in a room he barely recognized as the former recreation room of the ARC. Helen had brought him and Stephen to the future, to a version of the ARC long abandoned by everyone. There was few lights, no heating and precious little, bar moldering fixtures and fittings, in the derelict rooms. Unfortunately the few things still working were the locks on the doors, still perfectly capable of withstanding his feeble attempts to break out.

He'd only seen Stephen once since Helen ordered him marched through the anomaly, Nick catching a glimpse of the younger man being hustled, hands still bound behind his back, down a side corridor before he was lost to sight.

Hours later and he'd been freed of the plastic ties and given something to eat and drink, but not given any answers to his questions. He had no real idea of the passage of time, his watch taken from him when he first arrived, along with anything else he had in his pockets. The food tray lay empty by the door, awaiting collection. Nick turned over several escape plans in his head, the easiest being to punch out whoever collected the tray and make his escape then. Of course, he had no idea if the anomaly would be conveniently open, or if he could find Stephen to free him, or whether it was just a waste of time to even think about it. Thumping the dusty excuse for a pillow, he tried to ease his hip on the thin mattress. The sound of feet outside the room made him sit up instead, all idea of sleep abandoned.

He sat tensely on the edge of the bed, his fingers gripping the bed frame as he psyched himself up to do what he'd decided to do. The door opened and a young man stepped inside, his eyes raking over Nick with no recognition in their blue depths. Nick stared in shocked surprise, hardly believing what he was seeing. Ignoring the prisoner, the man bent down to pick up the tray, Nick choosing his moment and launching himself forward, adrenaline lending him speed and a punch that sent the younger man's head snapping back. They both fell to the floor and rolled over, the younger man quickly recovering and wrestling Nick so that they fought for dominance, scuffling and kicking amongst the dust and debris of time.

Nick knew the moment he lost the fight when a muscular arm wrapped around his neck, the crook of the man's elbow under his chin, forcing his head up and back, choking him.

His fingers scrabbled at the material of the man's sleeve, tugging it to relieve the unrelenting pressure.

"Stephen...you're choking me!"

Abruptly the arm relaxed and Nick found himself free, collapsing to his knees and coughing as he fought to drag air back into his lungs. The younger man stood over him, his hands hanging at his side as he breathed heavily.

"How do you know my name?"

Nick glanced up at the young man and coughed again, his eyes closing as he tried to overcome his initial shock at seeing a ghost from the past living and breathing in front of him.

"Because I know you...knew you..." Nick gasped, sitting down heavily with his back to the wall. "You're name is Stephen Hart...only I don't know how it is you exist."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It means...that someone I used to know has been dabbling in things she should have left well enough alone. God if I ever get my hands on her, I'll snap Helen's neck..."

Nick suddenly found himself hauled up by the shirt at his neck, the fist bunched up under his chin. The younger man pushed Nick up against the dirty wall and stood almost nose to nose with him.

"Don't ever talk about her like that again."

Nick stared into the face of Stephen Hart a good ten years younger than his counterpart in the other dimension. The eyes were the same, thickly lashed and a fathomless blue, the skin a little less weather beaten, the hair shorter and less unruly than his counterpart, but Stephen Hart nonetheless.

"I don't know what story Helen has concocted to gain your loyalty, but she's not a woman to be trusted. Believe me, I know!"

"Let him go Stephen." Helen voice from the doorway made the young man relax his grip on Nick's shirt, but he didn't let him go.

"He says he knows me."

"Well he would...he's Nick Cutter." Helen stepped into the room and waved away the man standing behind her. "You can go, Nick won't be trying anything, will you Nick?"

Stephen still had a hold of Cutter's shirt, his expression now quizzical rather than menacing. Nick remained where he was, his back hard up against the wall. He saw Helen move behind Stephen, her hand coming to rest on the younger man's shoulder.

"You can let go of him Stephen...he won't hurt me." Her fingers tightened and Nick suddenly found himself free, the relief making his legs weak so that he slid down the wall on to his haunches.

"How can he know me? I've never set eyes on him before." The impossibly young Stephen still stood as if expecting Nick to launch himself upwards from the floor. Nick would have laughed if he'd had the breath to do so.

"What the bloody hell have you done?" Nick accused Helen, shaking his head.

Patting the arm of the bristling young man at her side, Helen stepped forward and squatted down to bring her eye to eye with Nick.

"Isn't he perfect? You'd be amazed what you can do in this time with a healthy sample of DNA and enough money." She cast a glance over her shoulder and then back at Nick, smiling her serpents smile.

"A clone?" Nick glanced up at his friends' younger duplicate.

"Well he can hardly be the original. You had that returned to you already. I must congratulate you all on keeping that card close to your chest. If I'd known...well, let's just say, it would have saved me a great deal of money and time."

"Wouldn't have done you any good. He didn't remember you, hardly remembered me."

"I know...a shame about that, I was just starting to warm to that particular game when it ended."

"Christ Helen...you got him killed."

"Hardly...he's alive, mostly intact and back in the fold with you and the others. I'd say that everyone won a hand in that round of cards."

"He lost his memory Helen...he lost his life. He's not the man you think he is...he's not your Stephen."

"I know that. Five minutes in his company told me that. Am I right in thinking he's taken up with the little zoologist again?"

Nick remained silent, not wanting to give Helen another target for her malice.

"Well...never mind. I don't really need you to confirm that little detail." Helen rose up and stood there, her smile still fixed to her lips.

"What about him?" Nick nodded to the young man behind her. "How does he figure in your plans? He's a little young, even for you! What is he...eighteen? Twenty at most?"

Helen let the smile slip, her eye suddenly glacial. "On your feet Nick...Stephen didn't hurt you." She turned around. "Give him a hand."

Stephen hesitated, then reached down and offered his hand to the man he'd tried to strangle, his youthful features unreadable as Nick accepted his offer and hauled himself up to stand upright.

"Thank you." Nick held the young man's hand a second longer than necessary, scrutinizing the features and marveling at the young man's existence. "You really are him...just as he was when I first met him so many years ago."

Stephen scowled at Nick and shook off his grip, stepping back a pace to bring him alongside Helen.

"What is he talking about?" He hissed at Helen, keeping his eyes on Nick for any further sign of trouble. "Mother?"

Nick gaped for a moment then let out a hoot of laughter, slapping his knee and almost bending double at his wifes latest perfidy. "Good Lord lad...she's no more your mother than I am!"

"Ignore him, he's quite mad." Helen dismissed Nick's hooting and turned to Stephen, her brows forming a scowl. "How did you end up here anyway? This isn't your usual sector?"

Stephen blinked at her sudden change in temperament and stepped back a pace. "We've had so few new incursions, and I heard these were from your time...I wanted to see if they were different."

Nick had recovered from his brief bout of hysterics and stood with his hands on his hips, watching the two with an amused look on his face. "Why the hell would we be different? Just how far into the future did you bring us Helen?"

"Far enough to make him possible. I was going to return him to you Nick...a peace offering, if you like. I still want you to reconsider my offer."

"Which offer would that be Helen? There's been so many I've lost track. If I remember, you didn't exactly stop Leek when he wanted to kill me using the Predator. Which rather negates any other offers on the table. I don't deal well with treachery!"

"Leek was a loose canon. I was as much at risk as you were," Helen snapped back, her eyes flashing.

"Hey!" Stephen's shout drew both of their attentions back to him. The young man looked out of his depth, his face working as he tried to rationalize the disjointed conversation. "What the blazes are you two talking about, I want to know?"

Nick stared at the younger version of Stephen and felt pity well up in him. Helen glanced at Nick as if expecting him to blurt out the truth, but Nick only shook his head.

"Oh no...I'm not going to be the one to clean up this mess Helen. You made him, you tell him."

"This is hardly the place. Stephen, you need to get back to where you belong. Leave Nick to me and send in the soldier waiting outside."

"But..."

"Do as I ask!" Helen barked the order, cutting Stephen off. She saw his expression hardening and she tried to rectify her mistake. "There's nothing to worry about...I'll fill you in later."

Confused and rattled, Young Stephen hesitated a second before turning on his heel and leaving the room, the soldier outside appearing seconds later.

Helen waited a minute to allow Stephen to be far enough away not to overhear her.

"Forget about using him against me Nick...he's too loyal and noble, just like the original. He doesn't know you from Adam, so don't think you'll have a chance changing that. As for your insinuation – you saw that he considers me his parent, and I don't do incest."

"Not even when he's the image of your former lover? The same former lover you left to die - twice. When did you grow a heart?" Nick's scathing retort brought a dark flush to Helen's face.

"Bastard." Helen lashed out and attempted to slap Nick across the face, but Nick was quicker and blocked her hand with his forearm. Frustrated, Helen signaled for the soldier to come forward and secure Nick's hands once more behind his back.

"Enough of this reunion banter...you might as well join the other Stephen. Maybe he can convince you the error of your ways. You know I'm right."

"I know you'll do whatever it takes to achieve the warped agenda you have to complete."

"Bring him," Helen commanded, tossing her head and walking out of the room, into the corridor.

Nick laughed to himself, marveling at how some things never changed whatever time you were in.

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Stephen kicked at a loose panel towards the base of the wall and cursed under his breath, a white cloud forming in the cold air even from those few well chosen words. He left off the kicking and paced across the floor again, his arms folded tightly over his chest. It had been hours since his arrival at the derelict former ARC, his initial accommodation only slightly better than where he was now, and certainly brighter, the single small bulb left to illuminate the room barely adequate for the task. Helen had left him with the understanding he had to convince Nick to stay with her, or else spend the rest of his days trapped in the future. After all he'd read and heard about Helen Cutter, her actual appearance surprised him. He'd seen photo's but they never did anyone justice until you met them in the flesh, and Helen was somebody you wanted to experience in the flesh, albeit he'd have preferred from a greater distance.

He scrubbed at his newly shaved chin, having submitted ungraciously to being shaved, his hair also getting the treatment while Helen watched, moving forward at the end of the grooming session to run her hand over his face, her smile feral.

"There you are...I knew you were there under that mountain man visage." Then she'd kissed him, her tongue snaking into his mouth like a worm, her hands taking advantage of his still bound state and feeling him up. He had to admit she knew how to kiss, but his lack of reaction achieved the desired result and she stopped after a few seconds, pulling away to stare angrily into his face, his chin held between her steely fingers.

"I suggest you work on that lack of response Stephen. You can forget about returning to play with Abby if you don't convince Nick to stay here with me."

"And here I was thinking you wanted me for yourself." He quirked an eyebrow and smirked when she roughly jerked his chin, anger making her eyes spark.

"That would have been a plus, but your amnesia makes you untrustworthy."

Stephen laughed out loud. "Me...untrustworthy? Looked in the mirror lately? I won't help you Helen...whatever you think you can do to me, has already been done...remember?" Tilting his chin he saw her eyes rove over his neck and the scars formerly hidden by his beard. "Your treachery did this...I only have to touch them to remind myself."

Helen had left him then, having no answer to his taunts. He'd been moved soon after, shoved into a smaller room with the barest of essentials and no heating. He had no idea of the passage of time, whether it was day or night or if he would be given enough to keep him alive. He fretted about Abby, wondering what was happening at the ARC, hoping that Helen didn't do something to hurt or injure those left behind. He assumed that Helen would either take him to see Nick, or kidnap the man as she'd done with himself. Either way, his chances of returning to his own time and Abby were starting to look slim.

The sound of boots made him swing around, the door opening seconds later and the figure of Nick Cutter catapulted into the room, only Stephen's quick action saving the man from falling on his face. The door banged shut again and they were alone.

"Stephen...thank God!" Nick righted himself but didn't let go of Stephen's arms, peering into his face, his blue eyes widening at the changes wrought on Stephen's face. Self consciously, Stephen turned his head away, no longer able to hide the extent of his scarring from his friend.

"Now you know why I grew the beard."

Nick didn't reply, just stood and stared, his eyes sympathetic. "Do they still hurt?"

"Nope. Just look like I was put through a mincer."

"Abby doesn't seem to mind." Nick reminded him, moving away and sitting down on the only chair in the room.

"She's biased." Stephen ran his palm over his newly shaved chin and cheeks, fingers brushing over the ridges of scar tissue.

"She loves you."

"Yeah...she does." Some of the gloom lifted and he smiled, Nick returning the look with a grin of his own. Then the moment passed when a shiver made Stephen wrap his arms about himself again to retain body heat. Nick was wearing a jacket, and made to pull it off to give to the younger man. Stephen held up his hand.

"No way...one of us has to stay warm. I'm fine, just a bit chilled. I can't believe she went to all this trouble," he indicated his face, "to have me turn into a ice block."

"Helen is as inscrutable as ever. She said you were going to try and convince me to help her."

"Like hell I am!" Stephen retorted, stamping his feet and blowing on his hands to warm them.

"You know, you have a certain leverage with the woman. You could try to sweet talk her into letting us go."

"What do you mean, leverage? I don't know her, and I surely don't want to know her. Whatever I was to her before...she can hardly expect me to slobber all over her now like some Pavlov's dog. Hell Nick...I can't stand to be near her."

"Yeah...she can have that effect on people." Nick clasped his hands together and brought them to his mouth to blow on them. "Of course, she doesn't have to know how you feel. There's something I think you ought to know."

"What-t-t's that?" Stephen stuttered slightly as his teeth started to chatter.

"I just met your clone."

As if turned into an ice block as predicted, Stephen froze, his eyes wide, mouth open in surprise.

"Yeah...that's pretty much my reaction as well," Nick continued. "He's exact down the last eyelash...only ten years younger than you are now."

"You have got to be joking...Nick, that's not funny!"

"Am I laughing?"

Stephen stared at Nick, appalled. "How? Why?"

"The how is easy...she took a sample from you at some time and brought it to the future, to now where apparently they are able to clone a human being. As for the why..." Nick shrugged. "She must have thought it was a way for her to have you back...maybe even to return you to me and the anomaly project." He stared down at his hands. "I don't know. I only know he exists and thinks that Helen is his..."

"His what?" Stephen asked, aghast. "Please don't tell me she's using my clone to...to..."

"No...no, at least I don't think so. He's only a kid...and calls her...mother." Nick cringed to have to even say such an abomination. Stephen could only stare in disbelief and horror, the cold forgotten and he tried to process this latest catastrophe.

"Bloody hell."

"Quite."

They fell silent, digesting the information and trying to come to terms with it in their own way.

"What are we going to do?" Stephen asked at last. "We can't stay here, and whatever crazy scheme that manipulative bitch has running around in her head, we can't let her get away with it."

"I agree completely." Nick nodded his head, a shiver racking his body, mirroring the ones constantly shaking Stephen with greater and greater intensity. "But first we need to convince her to let us out of this fuckin' freezer or we're dead."

"I'm o-open t-t-to sug-gestions." Stephen stuttered, his teeth chattering hard.

Nick got off the chair and walked over to the door, banging his closed fist on it to get attention. Within seconds the door opened, Nick stepping back and holding up his hands as the guard pointed a gun at them.

"What do you want?"

"Get Helen...I want to talk to her...and get us some blankets, blast you, we're freezing our bollocks off in here."

The man glanced over at Stephen who was looking decidedly blue, shaking from head to foot with cold. "I'll pass the message on." Then he shut the door on Nick face and locked it again.

"Damn."

"At l-least you tr-tried."

"Come on, let's get you moving before you freeze on the spot." Putting his arm around Stephen's back, Nick marched the two of them across the floor and back, feeling the shudders shaking his friends lanky frame as they tried to keep warm.

Half an hour later the door opened again and several black clad soldiers filed into the room, a bundle of blankets and heating pads quickly pressed into Nick's hands, who bundled up Stephen before wrapping himself in a blanket before the soldiers marched them at long last out of the room and hopefully to somewhere warmer.

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...to be continued.


	14. Face to Face

31/3/08

Title: Forgotten

Chapter: 14 – Face to Face

Author: Squeezynz

Setting: Post S2Ep7 – about a year later

Pairing: Stabby

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"What's to stop them seeing the anomaly you've just created?" Lester asked, one eyebrow raised as he contemplated the anomaly currently illuminating the ARC. "It rather gives the element of surprise away if they can see a big sparkly thing in their hide out. One that they didn't create."

"Ah...yes...well, this big sparkly thing isn't in their time...it's still in ours...kinda." Connor gave his audience a small smile before turning back to his technological baby and tapping on the keyboard.

"Care to explain?" Jenny asked, almost mirroring Lester's eyebrow with one of her own.

"This is just a demonstration, don't you see. If you were to step through...well, let's just say you'd end up right back where you started from."

Abby gave Connor a quizzical look. "You can do that...dial up wherever you want to go?"

"Not quite." Connor replied shortly. "I can open an anomaly to wherever we've already been...as long as the fourth dimensional co-ordinate is already in the ADD."

Lester was rubbing the bridge of his nose again, looking pained as he squeezed his eyes nearly shut in an effort to work out what Connor had tried to elucidate. "What are you saying? We can only go to the same places that all the anomalies to date have already been to?"

Connor bit his lip as he mentally went over what Lester had said. "Um...yes."

"So where have you got these co-ordinates from?" Jenny asked.

"From Leek's computer input...and from taking readings when the anomaly was opened when Helen came through."

"So you can open an anomaly to the same place Helen took Nick and Stephen?" Abby queried.

"Um...yes...I'm sure I can." Connor nodded.

"You're sure?" Lester asked, opening one eye and giving Connor a long suffering look.

"Mostly." Connor tried to ignore the looks passed between the three people around him. "Look, Leek had somehow – I'm assuming with Helen's help – reopened a fair few of the anomalies we'd seen closed, apparently to go into them and capture the different creatures we saw in the bunker, right?"

He waited for his audience to nod their understanding.

"So...every time he opened an anomaly they recorded the when, where, frequency and time...in here." He pointed at the ADD. "Each anomaly seems to resonate at a different frequency within a fairly narrow band, relatively speaking. But with the addition of time and place and pinpointing the actual time, each has it's own – I suppose you'd call it – an address. That's what the radio frequency picks up on, and recognizes There are tiny variations with each anomaly, as there are in an address or phone number, but once you know what to look for, you just repeat the variations for where you want to go...and you have it."

"Never mind all that," Lester waved his hand dismissively, "can you connect us to the time that Helen came from, and we assume took Cutter and Stephen to?"

"Well...yes...didn't I already say that?" Connor replied a little peevishly.

"Good. And are you able to move it so that it doesn't appear right in the middle of their headquarters, but maybe...say...enough distance for us to sneak up on them?"

"Ah...tricky...but not impossible. I just have to alter the linear equation to realign..." Connor found himself silenced with Lester's hand over his mouth.

"Enough...just let me know how long you need to achieve the miracle and leave the rest up to me."

"Two hours?"

"Right. Should be enough time to get Captain Richards back here with his squad."

"I'll be going with them!" Abby piped up, her expression mutinous.

"I hardly think..." Lester started only to be halted by a hand on his arm. Jenny squeezed then let go, ignoring her boss for the moment and concentrating on the girl in front of her.

"We have two hours Abby...you need to rest. Why don't we leave Connor to fiddle with his toy, and Sir James to organize the logistics. I could sure use a shower and a hot coffee right now...how about you?"

Abby's gaze faltered as she switched her attention from glaring at Lester, to staring at Jenny.

"As long as it's understood, I'm going with whatever force you're sending through."

Jenny looped an arm about the girls waist and started to draw her away, Lester taking the hint and heading over towards the ramp leading up to his office, a phone already up to his ear as he made the necessary calls. Connor turned around in his swivel chair and aimed his box of tricks at the anomaly still lazily spinning against the far wall. With a press of a button, the time portal closed, leaving the ARC that much gloomier than a few seconds before.

Putting the box down, he stretched out his arms and flexed his fingers together, making them crack. Wriggling them furiously afterwards, he turned back to his multi-screened magic hat and once more resumed his industrious pounding of the keyboard.

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Stephen blew on the hot cup of something savory cradled between his hands and sipped cautiously. Nick sat at his side similarly occupied. They were sitting in a room that had once been considered Lester's domain, the glass walled office no longer pristine, the windows smeared and dirty, the furniture dull and dusty. Despite the partially obscured glass, they could look down into the main area of the ARC, the activity of the soldiers loading up supplies into the back of a large truck the main attraction.

"They look like they're getting ready to leave this place," Stephen murmured, not looking at Nick, all too aware of the man standing guard only a few feet away.

"Sure looks that way," Nick followed his example and ignored both Stephen and the guard, pretending to be more intent on warming up than plotting to escape. The tramp of boots on the metal walkway drew both their attentions away from the view beyond the glass walls, to the squad of men approaching the office. Helen was in the lead, her hips swinging, her face set.

Both Stephen and Nick rose to their feet, blankets still around their shoulders.

Helen pushed the surviving uncracked door panel wide as she marched into the room, her men arranging themselves behind Stephen and Nick, absorbing the guard into their number and standing ready with weapons primed.

"Nick." Making her way around the ruined desk, Helen hitched one hip onto the edge and perched there, facing her two captives.

"Helen." Nick smiled thinly. "Moving out?"

Helen didn't pretend to not understand, her smile echoing his for insincerity.

"Only ever temporary. I'd think you'd be excited to view what's outside these crumbling walls."

"Didn't think I was going to be given the opportunity." Nick replied, his smile gone.

"You only ever had to say the word Nick...and everything would have been yours."

Tucking in his chin, Nick stared at the dirty carpet for a moment before lifting his head. "Only had to sell my soul, isn't that right?"

"So melodramatic Nick..."

"If not my soul...then certainly my humanity. What you've done...what you continue to do, it has got to stop Helen."

Helen slid off the desk top, her eyes burning. "I don't need your permission Nick...I never have. What I offer you is the past, the future and all points in between," she held out her hand clenched into a fist. "Here, for you to take...anywhere you can imagine yours to grasp."

"And do what? Obliterate people, change their histories? Change the world?"

"Yes Nick...change the world. Isn't that what you always wanted to do? The reason why you chased after these aberrations in the fossil records, to learn how they'd come about, how they affected the world view of our history? To fit the pieces together to see the whole?"

"I've seen the whole Helen...you did something, changed the world...but you didn't make it a better place. You wiped out Claudia, you got Stephen all but killed...you did your best to destroy our friendship along with his life. How many more people are going to die, and for what? Tell me Helen...what is it all for?"

"But Claudia isn't gone...she's still there. Stephen didn't die, and if he had," she glanced briefly at Stephen then back to Nick, "I had already replaced him for you...I do care Nick...I do care about you. I wanted you to be happy."

Nick laughed. He laughed loud and long, causing Helen to back away, her expression startled by his reaction. Stephen looked at Nick sideways, having remained silent throughout their conversation. This had always been about Helen and Nick, his life merely collateral damage, his relationship with Helen nothing more than a diversion, something to occupy her time until Nick relented, he knew that now.

Nick continued to laugh, the sound warped and echoey in the glass walled office. More than one soldier down below looked up at the office at the man with his head thrown back in uncontrollable mirth.

The sound of the slap made Stephen jump. Helen shook out her hand to relieve the sting of pain in her wrist, while Nick held his face averted for a long moment, her hand print clear on his pale cheek.

Helen sucked in a breath between her teeth. "You're mad, I see that now. I thought you'd see sense, but I'm wasting my breath..."

"I saw sense about you and our marriage a long time ago Helen. I was blind to think there was anything there worth losing a friendship over. If I had some way of ending this I would." Nick took a step forward, the blanket tumbling to the floor. The unsubtle sound of several guns cocking was loud in the confines of the office.

Stephen glanced warily at the men surrounding them, their eyes fixed on the prisoners, only waiting for a sign from Helen to open fire. Sporting one of her half smiles, Helen held up her hand and the guns were lowered again.

Nick was shaking his head slowly from side to side. "I'm not the one with delusion of grandeur Helen. Just stop what you're doing and come back with us."

"Back? Sorry Nick, I have epochs to explore, and the luxury of time to do so. If you won't join me, I'll find someone who will." She looked pointedly at Stephen, but he just turned his face away, refusing to meet her eyes. Lifting one shoulder in dismissal, she crooked her finger at one of the men standing at the back of the circle of soldiers. Before the man could move, Nick spoke up.

"What about the boy, Helen? You said yourself, he's of no use to you as young as he is. He'll never be Stephen...and Stephen won't have you."

"I always hated that about you Nick...you're such a fool. What does it matter to you what I do with him? You're right, he's not Stephen...but then who is? That scarred wreck beside you?" She sneered and turned her head away, beckoning the man forward again. He moved, but hesitantly.

"Don't do this." The soldier drew off the helmet concealing his face to reveal the youthful features of Stephen's clone. "He doesn't want to be here mother...neither of them do. Just send them back to their own time."

Helen stood with her hands on her hips looking amused, her rich brown eyes softening for a moment at his use of the word 'mother'. Then those same eyes turned to stone, and her fist lifted to back hand the young man sending him reeling. "When I want your opinion, I'll ask for it..." whatever else she was going to say was obliterated by the sound of an explosion, the floor rocking with the force, making the soldiers stagger and sending Helen falling back against the side of the desk.

The door leading to the outside had been breached, a white cloud of gas pouring in and masking the figures using the smoke screen to enter the ARC from the soldiers still on their feet around the truck.

Helen stared down through the office wall, her eyes wide. A shot hit the glass in front of her, fracturing the pane and sending her reeling away, her life preserved by the ancient polycarbonate film coating. Her own men hastily ducked and made their way out of the suddenly vulnerable office as more shots peppered the bullet proof glass, sending wide spiderwebs of cracks across the pane and making Nick and Stephen dive for the floor.

"Get down there and help them!" Helen ordered, pulling out her own gun and leveling it at Nick.

"Time for a quicky divorce Nick..."

Her hand was suddenly kicked away, the gun not leaving her hand but instead firing harmlessly into the abused glass wall, the pane shattering from the combined onslaught and sending shards to fall onto the floor below. Stephen's younger version wrestled with Helen for possession of the gun, more shots hitting the ceiling and desk, one hitting the floor close to Stephen's head, showering him in splinters. The near miss galvanized him into action, launching himself at the wrestling pair, adding his bulk to subdue Helen, the gun finally spinning out of her hand to land near to Nick, who picked it up. The two of them quickly secured Helen, bending her face first over the desk, the two men so alike and yet so different stared at each other over the back of the woman who had affected their lives to profoundly. Both were breathing heavily, staring into each other's faces with a mixture of shock and fascination.

"We have to get out of here!" Nick said tersely, the gun battle below sending more shots upwards, pinging off the metal framework outside the shattered glass wall of the office. "Tie her up and lets get moving."

The younger man hesitated, then gave Stephen a look, the small nod sufficient for him to release his grip on Helen and rummage in his many pockets for a plastic zip tie. All the while Helen raged at them all, her head thrashing as she fought to free herself. The floor rose and settled again, leaving everyone staggering, Helen and Stephen thrown to the floor while Nick and the younger man staggered to keep their balance. Clouds of choking smoke poured into the room and they all coughed, eyes streaming.

"Time we left," Nick shouted, hauling Helen to her feet, the younger Stephen giving his older counterpart a hand up before they all raced out of the room and down the ramp. A huge hole had been blown in the superstructure, the gap too big to jump. Nick stood uncertainly at the edge of the tangled metal, the floor still a long way down. The other's stood behind him, Helen still struggling against Stephen's iron grip on her arm, her eyes streaming from the smarting smoke.

"Stephen!!" A shrill cry from below drew their attention to a slight figure dressed in fatigues, a overly large helmet on her head. "Stephen!!" Pushing back the helmet, Abby peered up at the figures poised on the edge of the huge rip in the ramp. She could make out Nick and Stephen, Helen between them and another man behind them. "Stand back," she signaled for them to give her room, then hefted a wicked looking spear gun with a massive point at the end and a quantity of rope coiled around the barrel. Pointing it skywards she braced herself and fired, the explosive quarrel carrying the rope with it and burying itself in the wall near to where Nick stood.

"You go first," Nick signaled for the younger Stephen to take the rope, the young man hesitating before quickly stepping off the edge and sliding down the rope to the floor, his back to Abby, finding himself surrounded by members of the invading force, his hands secured while they waited for the others to use the rope.

Abby, her attention all on the drama playing out above her head, watched anxiously as Nick turned back to Stephen and the captive Helen, seeing the flash of a blade as he cut Helen's bonds to allow her to use the rope next. Like the soldier before her, Helen was rapidly re-secured when she arrived on the floor below, not given the time to attempt an escape, her curses ringing in everyones ears as they conveyed her away. The gun battle was all but over, only sporadic shots now heard from further in the ARC as the rescue force mopped up Helen's small army. Nick arrived down the rope and landed on the floor with a thump, almost instantly enveloped by the slight figure of Abby in a bone crushing hug, just a quickly released as she waited for Stephen to descend. Nick moved away and stood beside the young Stephen, signaling for the younger man to be released from his bindings.

Stephen slid down the rope and had barely touched ground before Abby was in his arms, her slight body rocking him on his heels, her hands dragging his face down to meet hers in a desperate kiss, their audience forgotten as they tried to absorb each other, Stephen lifting her off her feet as he wrapped her in his arms, devouring her mouth then pressing kisses over her face, Abby laughing and kissing him back.

Abby pressed her cheek against his, rubbing her face up and down, feeling the rasp of his regrowing whiskers scratching her skin. "God...don't ever do that to me again..."

"What the hell are you doing here?" Stephen asked, his lips pressed to her neck as she welded herself more firmly against him despite the heavy tac vest and over large uniform. She felt like heaven in his arm and he never wanted to let her go. Lifting his head a fraction he met the amused glance of Nick and the rather astonished gaze of his mirror image, the younger man positively embarrassed to witness such an overt display of affection. Ignoring them both he pulled back far enough to cup Abby's face in his hands, noting the streak of tears tracking down her face through the dust on her fair skin. Kissing them away he grinned crookedly at her. "We're making quite a spectacle of ourselves sweet girl."

"Good." And she kissed him again before finally letting him go, her hand finding his and holding on with a grip that said she wasn't letting go anytime soon. A slightly shorter than average soldier approached, removing his helmet to reveal Lester toting an impressively competent looking gun.

"If we can dispense with the reunion, I've been reliably informed we need to get the hell out of here."

With Helen secured between two burly special forces men, the rescuers and rescuees quickly exited the smoking ARC, the special forces watching their back as they jogged across the ruined car park and behind another building to where an anomaly sparkled innocently, closely guarded by yet more of the good guys. Nick only hesitated a second before following Lester through, closely followed by Stephen and Abby, then Helen and her escorts and the rest in due course.

On the other side they were greeted by lights and warmth and cheers from Connor, who couldn't resist exchanging a high five with Jenny before racing forward to greet his friends. Jenny hung back and watched.

Only when everyone was accounted for and the last of the special forces jogged through the anomaly was it shut down. Those of Helen's forces that remained were shepherded away to vans to be taken to a holding facility, Helen given a van all to herself and an escort that would ensure she had no chance to slip away. Lester followed in his own transport after divesting himself of what he called his Gung-Ho gear, the gun returned to the armory along with Abby's.

Nick stood talking to Connor, patting the young man on the shoulder and exchanging a high five of his own before turning to regard Jenny, who returned his gaze with a tilted chin and a smile.

"I don't suppose you were worried about me?" Nick asked, his eyes crinkling as he paced slowly over to where she sat.

"No for one second. I just hung around to make sure...to make sure that Lester didn't get himself shot and require me to fill in an extraordinary amount of paperwork."

"So if I'd been shot...?" Nick raised his eyebrows taking a step closer.

"Hardly any bother at all...as far as the paperwork is concerned."

"Ah...then you wouldn't be interested in a drink to celebrate my safe return?"

Jenny wrinkled her nose at his disheveled state. "I think I might take a rain-check. You look as if you could do with a good shower and then bed."

"Well I was only thinking of having a drink...but if you offering?" He grinned at her sudden look of consternation, followed almost as quickly as her frown of realization that he was teasing.

"In your dreams Nick Cutter..." She looked past Nick to where a solitary figure in black still lingered. "I think you may have forgotten someone?" she pointed behind Nick and he dutifully turned to look.

"Damn. Excuse me..." Nick swung away from Jenny and approached the young man who looked so much like Stephen. "Stephen..."

"Yes?" A chorus from both Stephen's made Nick check his progress when both the younger and older version turned to face him.

"This is going to pose a problem," he muttered under his breath, continuing to approach the younger version, while the older remained by the ADD with Abby and Connor.

"You can leave him with me," Nick instructed the two guards still covering the young man.

"If you're sure?" One queried, not lowering his gun despite Nick's raised eyebrow.

"You can tell Lester, or whoever asks, it's under my authority." He waved them back and both men exchanged a glance before slowly lowering their guard and walking away.

"Thank you." Young Stephen said, his eyes wary as Nick approached. "What are you planning on doing with me?"

Nick glanced over to where Abby and Stephen stood, watching the exchange closely. "First I want to ask you a question."

"You trust me to answer truthfully?" The young man asked, looking surprised.

"Do you consider yourself Helen's son?"

The younger man looked down at the floor and studied his boots. "I thought I was...until I saw him. Now I don't know what I am."

"I asked Lester to leave you in my care, as I didn't think you'd be any trouble. Are you going to cause me trouble?" Nick questioned, ignoring the flash of sympathy for the young man and his plight.

Still studying his boots, Younger Stephen replied. "No." He glanced up at Nick. "Are you going to return me to my time?"

"Do you want to go back?" Nick folded his arms across his chest, his gaze intent.

"I don't know what I want anymore. With Mother...Helen in custody...and knowing that I'm supposed to have been a replacement for him...I don't know what I'm going to do, or where I belong." He hitched his shoulders up in an awkward shrug, looking exactly like what he was, a confused teenager completely out of his depth.

"Then we'll have to find you somewhere...a place to belong. But until we do, you can stay at my place and tell me all about your life up until this point. We never got to explore your time, or see anything of it, so I'm all agog to hear what you have to tell me."

At last the young man raised his head and stared at Nick. "Why are you being so nice to me after everything she did?"

"What were you expecting? That we'd lock you up, throw away the key, interrogate you?" Nick paused, seeing his reply in his face. "Yes, I suppose that would be the logical thing to do, but I take a perverse delight in doing things that don't always appear logical. If I hand you over to Lester and his men, you will likely spend your days being experimented on or languishing in a cell. I prefer to look on your...appearance...as a chance to learn about our own future, or a future that might be. For all we know we will do something tomorrow that will make that future cease to exist, in which case you will be the only one able to remember it. Whatever Helen might have thought when she decided to go ahead and clone Stephen, she never anticipated that you would become your own person, someone nothing like the man she hoped to replace." Nick glanced over his shoulder at Stephen still standing beside the ADD. "There's only ever been one Stephen, and he's standing over there." Nick turned back to face the young man standing so awkwardly in front of him. "You have a chance to be yourself."

"Then I think the first thing I'll need to do is ditch the name." Shooting a glance at his older counterpart, Young Stephen shifted restlessly before looking at Nick. "What do you think I should call myself?"

"Were you only known at Stephen, or did you have another name?" Nick asked gently, leaning in.

"Moth...Helen called me Stephen, but no one else did. They guys called me Tac."

"Tac?" Nick rubbed his chin as he considered the name. "Then Tac it is." Nick placed his hand on Tac's shoulder and turned to face the others.

"People...I'd like to introduce you to...Tac." Nick kept his hand on the young man's shoulder as the other approached. Connor couldn't resist passing looks back and forth between Tac and Stephen, noting the similarities and the differences.

"Freaky," was the only comment he made after a sharp elbow in the ribs from Abby. She tried not to stare, but couldn't resist, fascinated to see how her Stephen would have looked so long ago. She was surprised to feel nothing more than a passing interest in the younger version of her lover, and turned to tell him so, surprising a look that she couldn't interpret pass over Stephen's face.

"What is it?" Abby asked quietly, her fingers curling around his and squeezing. Stephen only shook his head and gave an almost imperceptible shiver.

"Nothing. Hey...Nick, Abby and I are going to take off..." He indicated himself with a dismissive wave. "I need a shower and a meal. Lester is bound to want to give us the third degree before long and I need to recharge before I face him."

Nick could see that Stephen wanted nothing more than to get the hell away from his clone, his whole body tense with the effort of not freaking out over the entire situation.

"Sure...I'll drop Connor back. You and Abby take yourselves off home. Lester will call when he needs us. I think we've earned a break."

Without any further comment, Stephen swung away, pulling Abby after him. She just waved and followed, almost trotting to keep up with Stephen's long stride.

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...to be continued.


	15. Moving Forward

7/4/08

Title: Forgotten

Chapter: Fifteen – Moving Forward

Author: Squeezynz

Setting: S2Ep7 – a year on from the end.

Pairing: Stabby all the way.

Author's Note: lots of lovin' ahead.

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Steam billowed out of the bathroom door, left open in their haste to get naked. Clothes lay strewn over the floor, boots kicked into the corners and underwear dangling off reptile tanks and furniture.

In the shower Stephen lifted Abby up so she could wrap her legs around his waist. His mouth was devouring her neck, wringing mewing noises from her that sent electricity straight to his groin. Urgently he fused them together, flesh in flesh, Abby crying out his name at the sudden fullness, her arms wrapping about his neck while she hung on for dear life. The drumming of the water only heightened the sensitivity of her skin, her slight body held easily in his arms, his flesh driving her mindless with pleasure as he buried himself again and again inside her.

He didn't last long, the long tease in the car, up the stairs and into the bathroom bringing him so close to the edge he'd been shaking when he tore off his shirt and jeans. Now they shook together, trembling in the aftermath of his last deep thrust, Abby pressed up against the wet tiles, Stephen's head fallen to her shoulder as he gasped to draw breath into his heaving lungs.

Slowly she loosened her arms, sliding down his slick skin to stand on her own two feet, missing the feeling of him inside her as soon as he slipped out. Water continued to cascade over them, Stephen slowly regaining his balance on shaky legs, Abby turning him about to lean against the wall of the shower so she could massage his back with long, loving strokes.

Her fingers danced over the welter of scars marring the skin of his back, her face still pulling into a wince despite her long familiarity with his body. The new ones from the terror bird had only just healed and she was careful not to linger too long over those areas. Stephen groaned when she pressed herself against his back, her arms coming around to hug him.

"I know a much more comfortable place where we can continue this," she said against his back, his head coming up slowly before turning to look at her over his shoulder.

"Best offer I've had all day."

They parted briefly, shutting off the water and stepping into the foggy bathroom together. A quick drying off before they both padded, arms about each other, across the room to the stairs leading to the mezzanine bedroom. On the windowsill, basking in the late afternoon sun, Rex turned to regard the two humans cross the floor and start up to the next floor. He contemplated flying after them, but the buzz of a particularly juicy fly caught his attention instead, drawing his attention back to the window.

Stephen had lost track of time, surprised to find it still daylight outside as he padded behind Abby up the stairs. The view following her upwards, wrapped as she was in a very small towel, was one he felt stir his flesh once more into action. Abby had barely cleared the top step before the towel was whipped off her body and she found herself tumbled onto the bed, Stephen joining her seconds later, his mouth and hands everywhere at once.

Her skin turned rosy, the rough rasp of his emerging whiskers raking pleasurably over her breasts and stomach, his mouth leaving a trail of tingling love bites down her body while his hands swept up and down her arms and sides, brushing over peaked nipples and making her arch upwards.

"Move up the bed," his gruff order sent her scooting onto the pillows, his hands finding her ankles to push her knees up as he pursued her, laying her open for his mouth to plunder.

Abby clutched at the headboard, her head arched back, stretching her body like a bow. His hands held her pinned and exposed, his head between her legs unrelenting as he drove her wild.

"Stephen!" her high pitched scream announced her climax, her body shaking with the force of it. Grinning unashamedly, Stephen released her and moved up her body, gathering her up in his arms as she lolled bonelessly against the covers.

"You always say my name in the most beautiful way," he told her, kissing her closed eyes before moving to her open mouth, sealing it with his own and drawing her back from her far flung lassitude.

"You're gonna kill me one day with that mouth of yours..." Abby managed to enunciate after getting her breath back. She dragged her hand over his cheek, stroking him and feeling the short stubble. "Are you going to grow this back?"

"Don't know...maybe I should try for the designer stubble look?"

Abby prised her heavy eyelids open and gazed up at him. "I have to say I'm liking the scruffy look on you..." she reached up to play with the short fringe left after Helen's barbering. "And this doesn't look bad either." She bit her bottom lip, drawing his attention to her mouth which he claimed in another toe curling kiss before pulling back to gaze down at her snuggled trustingly in his arms.

"We'll see. Not sure I'm ready to have all this on display yet..." he saw a frown pull her brows together, "I mean...I'm not sure if I want to look like him."

Abby shifted to give her a better view of his face. "Stephen...you don't have to hide, really you don't." She lifted her hand to trace the scar marring his forehead. "I suppose I've grown so used to them I forget they remind you of what happened. To me you're all I want whether you shave your head or go around looking like Cousin It."

Stephen laughed out loud, folding her against his chest and rocking them both. "Bloody hell I'm one lucky bastard to have found you." He kissed her dark head. "When can we get married?"

"Why the hurry?" Abby teased, unafraid of his mock angry glare.

"Because I want to brand you as mine, no one else's. I want everyone to know that I have the most beautiful and brave wife any man could have...and then I'll chain you to the bed and won't let you get up for a week...my property, my own..."

"Property! Now see here..."Abby tried to sit up to protest at his high handed macho male rhetoric, but found herself instead sighing happily against the pillows, his mouth teasing her breasts while his fingers delved south and made her come apart all over again. Attempting to regain some of her brain functions before he melted them entirely, she grasped a fistful of his hair and pulled him up, his mouth leaving her nipple with an audible pop. "If you think you're going to turn me into...oh yeah, just there..." she paused as his clever fingers played sweetly inside her. She tried again. "Stephen...I'm not giving up what we do, to be some stay at home...ah...oh, don't stop," her fingers clutched at his shoulder, her eyes drawn to the wicked smile playing about his lips as he watched her reactions to what he was doing between her legs.

"You were saying?" He cocked an eyebrow and that was the last straw. Abby shoved at him, pushing him onto his back with her now straddling him, her eyes flashing danger.

"If anyone is going to be branded anyones property, it will be you," she wriggled against his pelvis, grinding herself against him and making him groan, his flesh hot and hard against her center. "I think I might like having you at my beck and call once I have a ring on you...maybe I'll have it put through here," she flicked one of his nipples making him gasp while she rolled it between her fingers. "Or maybe I'll have something else pierced to remind you who you belong to," barely pausing to lift herself up, she took him inside her body in one easy move, Stephen gripping her thighs and arching upwards to bury more of himself in her slick heat.

Abby started to move, resting her hands on his chest to raise herself slowly up and down, drawing out the pleasure and watching his expressions. Stephen watched her back, his intensely blue eyes half hidden by his dark lashes, the heat from them alone making Abby flush and throw her head back as she rocked and swiveled her hips.

"I suggest...we agree...to own each other..." Stephen moaned aloud with pleasure when Abby raised herself slowly up, only to slide her body down on him and squeeze at the same time, bringing him almost to the brink. Unable to bear the slow tease, he sat up abruptly and wrapped her in his arms, flipping them both over without breaking the intimate contact between them. With Abby underneath him, he became the tormentor, but was too close to his release to do more than lay claim to her with half a dozen powerful thrusts before he was shaking and shuddering his body against her, her legs holding him close.

"I'm dead," his voice muffled against her shoulder, Stephen felt Abby shake with laughter. Lifting his head he stared down into her piquant face. "What's so funny?" Flexing his pelvis he reminded her he was still comfortably seated inside her. Abby grinned up at him.

"You're about as far away from dead as it's possible for a man to be...in fact, any more undead and I don't think I'll survive."

"That's alright then...we'll not survive together." He grinned back at her before shifting his body to pull out of her, hissing as his overly sensitive flesh protesting leaving it's snug haven. Dragging the covers over them both, he lay there while Abby draped herself comfortably over him, her head finding its inevitable place in the crook of his shoulder.

The quiet of the flat enveloped them, Abby content to listen to the steady thump of his heart beneath her ear, Stephen relaxed and happy to have her warm weight against his side.

The minutes stretched and he thought she'd dozed off, but her slightly muffled voice reached him and made him smile again.

"How about next week?"

"Next week?"

"To get married."

"Can we do that? I thought women and weddings took forever to organize?"

"Chauvinist Pig...I can be organized in a week...it's not as if we're having anything fancy...are we?"

"Whatever my lizard girl wants...I'm not fussed."

"Well in that case...how about bikes, boots and black leather?"

"What!?" His yelp made her laugh.

"Only kidding...but I can't see myself in some meringue-like wedding dress with a dozen bridesmaids in pink, can you?"

"No. How about me in suit, you in something sexy, and a registry office somewhere?"

"You have a suit?"

"I can do the guy thing!" He chuckled, "I'm sure I can find one somewhere...Lester could lend me one of his."

Abby giggled. "The arms and legs would be too short...and you'd look silly in pin stripes."

"No I wouldn't...well...maybe."

"Nick and Connor have to be there...and Jenny"

"And Lester...after all, without him I wouldn't be here."

"Any family?" Abby asked without thinking, "Oh sorry...that was stupid of me. Sorry."

"Doesn't matter...what about you? Family...I mean."

"I have a couple of friends from my Zoo days...and there's a couple of family members I'm sure could be there on short notice."

"There you go then. Next weekend?"

"Well...maybe the weekend after next...just to give us time to book and stuff."

"Fine. Weekend after next."

Silence once more stretched between them, comfortable and secure, warm and loving.

"Where'd you want to go?"

"Go?" Abby's sleepy voice was barely above a whisper.

"Honeymoon. You know...with Connor's new doohickey we could go to any time or place, if you wanted to revisit the past?"

Abby took a moment to think about it. "No. I don't think so. There's too many creatures out there trying to put us on the menu. How about something closer to home?"

"Like where?"

"We could go back up to the Lake District and this time do some of the things we intended to do, only never got around to. I wouldn't mind revisiting that hotel..."

"The beds were rather comfortable, weren't they?"

"...and we could revisit that house. We never did get to do the tour over it and find out more of what Helen's been up to in the past."

"Does that matter, now she's in Lester's custody?"

"I'm curious. Aren't you?"

"About Helen. No."

"What about Tac?"

"Why bring him up? Already tired of the old model?"

She felt him tense up, a muscle ticking urgently in his cheek.

"Hey..." He didn't respond so she propped herself up on her elbow and stared down into his face. "Hey...look at me." When he didn't, she gripped his chin and forced him to turn his head. "Look at me."

"Abby...just drop it..." his gruff voice trailed away, realizing that he now had a very angry Abby on his hands.

"Don't even go there." Abby growled, keeping his head turned to face her. "Stephen James Hart don't you dare even think that...ever." She felt her eyes well up. "How dare you suggest I would be remotely interested in that...boy. Yes he looks like you, and I was interested to see what you looked like at the age...but that's all. Stupid, stupid man...how could you."

To her own and Stephen's consternation, she promptly burst into noisy tears, dropping back to the bed and covering her face with her hands, her engagement ring catching the light.

"Abby don't...sweetheart don't cry. I was a fool to think..."

"I thought I'd lost you to that bitch again...I...I thought this time she'd won."

"Shhhh I'm an idiot to doubt you...please don't cry..."

"God! When I think of what she's done...to you, to Nick..and now this boy...I want to..."

"What?" Stephen asked quietly, stroking her hair away from her face.

"Kill her!"

Stephen couldn't help but smile at her fierce expression, wide blue eyes awash with tears and spiky lashes as she stared defiantly up at him.

"That's my lizard girl."

"Patronizing bastard..." Abby sniffed and used the heel of her hand to clear the tears. "As if I would want a boy when I can have the man...scars, ego and all."

"I have an ego?"

"As big as a house...smug ratbag."

Stephen grinned at her and did look exceedingly smug. "So I guess this means you love me?"

"Do you love me?" She countered, her bottom lip pouting.

"More than this sorely battered body could ever show you."

"I like this body," she stroked a hand over the triangular mat of soft hair at the base of his throat. "In fact I love this body."

He kissed her softly. "I love you, my Abigail. My sweet, adorable...sexy Abigail."

"You're mine, my scarred Lazarus. I didn't know how much I really loved you, until I thought I'd lost you again."

Stephen felt his heart beat heavily in his chest, her simple sincerity bringing a lump to his throat.

"Hey...enough of the maudlin. We've got all the time in the world...past and present...even the future. Helen is safely locked up, Nick has his hands full fending off Jenny, and now he has Tac to mother," he paused while Abby giggled into her pillow. "What?"

"Just picturing Nick wearing a pinny and fussing over a younger you."

Stephen gave her a mock stern look before continuing. " As I was saying...Nick is taken care of, and Connor..."

"What about Connor?" Abby asked softly, turning a little pink.

"He might take a little longer to get over you."

Abby flushed a deeper pink. "How did you know?"

"Guys notice stuff."

"I hope he finds someone else."

"Maybe that latest addition...what was her name?"

"Don't know...she'd only just arrived a few days ago. With what's happened she'll probably be off like a shot and not come back."

"Nah...Lester only picks the best...she'll be back."

They settled once more into silence, the distant chirrup of Rex drifting up from the flat below.

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

The End

...for the time being. May return to this in a sequel, but for now...we leave our

intrepid duo to their connubial bliss.


End file.
